The Power of Cutesy
by CrimsonDomi
Summary: When Harry finds out that his blood was used in another Dark Ritual to create a child that's both technically his daughter and Voldie's granddaughter, he thinks the world has turned on its head. Warning: written mainly for fun, and I'm not sure characters might not be OOC. May contain fluff and odd grandfather-granddaughter bonding moments.
1. Capture and Children

**Disclaimer: My full name doesn't start with "J" and end with "g". Even if it would, there would still be a huge chance for me not to be JKR, who owns Harry Potter.**

* * *

**Capture and Children**

Harry didn't know what to do.

It was the beginning of his sixth year, the same calendar year Sirius had died, and Lord Voldemort had captured him.

He was lying face-down on the floor, before the Dark Lord sitting on his throne, writhing in agony under the Cruciatus Curse.

He didn't know how Voldemort had gotten him, the details were hazy, something about a spy helping, but it hadn't been Draco, but a Sixth Year Slytherin he hadn't ever spoken to.

"Leave me and the boy alone."

The Curse ended. Harry was grateful. But wait - leave alone? That meant he wouldn't die just yet, most likely. Old Voldiesnorts wanted to finish him off publicly.

The Death Eaters went out faster than he could have said "Boot-licking hem-kissers."

"Harry Potter... stand."

He scrambled himself off the floor, trying to ignore the trembling in his every limb.

The room was dark, oppressive, done in blacks and greens, with a touch of silver. In short, it looked exactly like he'd always imagined the Dark Tosser's Throne Room.

He stood, staring into the Dark Lord's eyes defiantly. They'd taken his wand, he was without protection, could be killed any minute, and the Slytherin part of him was thinking that he was a moron with the survival instinct of a lemming, while at the same time applauding him for his defiance - don't give the enemy what he wants. He could be killed any second anyway, so a bit of defiance didn't matter.

The Dark Lord came closer, smirking at him.

"Harry Potter... Will you join me?"

"Never." Why on Earth should he join a Dark Moron out to kill all his friends?

"You're rather quick to say that. I think in a week or two you might just change your opinion..." He sounded rather confident. This was bad.

The Dark Lord shoved him through a door behind his Throne Room.

"My personal quarters, boy."

There was a corridor, with two doors leading from it, one left, one right.

They entered the right one, landing in a small sitting room and kitchen that looked... well, ordinary. It had four doors leading from it.

"The library, the training chamber, the bathroom, and of course, the room for kids", Voldie said, pointing at the doors.

Wait, room for kids?

"Grampa?" A small head showed itself from the door of the room labelled to be the one for kids.

It was a girl, probably around one and a half.

"Morgan, come here. There's someone you should meet."

The small girl went through the door, holding something that resembled a walking stick.

"Did you use that to open the door?"

"Sure. I wanted to get out."

For a girl who probably hadn't yet reached her second birthday, she was damn clever, Harry thought.

Then he froze.

She looked... well, sort of a little like a young Tom Riddle, but... she had his eyes. His mother's eyes, and red hair.

His eyes were staring right back at him, with an expression he was pretty sure was cleverer than anything he'd ever had on his face, which looked rather funny on such a small child.

"H-how?" It took him a second to recognize his own voice.

"May I introduce Morgan Potter? You can chose the middle name."

"I'm an experiment from a dark ritual, Grampa says", the little girl said proudly.

He would bet she didn't have any idea what this really meant, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the truth wouldn't be good for him.

"Explain. Now."

"Only if you say 'Please, my Lord'."

A Dark Lord, trying to teach him manners, of all things. This truly couldn't get any more ridiculous. Except, of course, if the Dark Lord revealed that the girl was somehow their daughter or something like that. He'd read too many of Dudley's comics, he just realized.

"Please, my Lord."

"Much appreciated, my servant." Harry grinded his teeth. "You see, blood can be used for more than one purpose. Half of the blood in her veins is yours." In other terms, she was his sort-of-daughter. Great. How had he anticipated that?

"And the remainder of it?" He tried to sound cool and calm. He didn't quite manage.

"Half between me and Morgan le Fay. Through bone, in the latter's case. The girl did need a grandmother after all, and two fathers would have been simply ludicrous."

Okay, at least he wasn't his and Voldie's daughter, but his daughter and Voldie's granddaughter.

That didn't make things much better, but at least a bit.

"I'll leave the two of you alone now."

Voldie went outside, smugly whistling a rather creepy melody.

He heard the door locking behind Voldie. He couldn't get out.

"So, you're sort of my father."

"Yeah."

"Why did you leave me here alone?" It sounded so much like himself in those daydreams of his when someone, a long lost parent or relative or anyone, really, rescued from the Dursleys.

"I..." What should he say?

He settled for the truth.

"I didn't know you existed."

Her shoulders slumped down. He was quick to add: "Otherwise, I'd have come for you for sure."

She smiled up at him, a smile that reminded him of his own, so much that he almost wanted to double-check he wasn't looking into a mirror that made his face smaller.

She looked up at him, then stretched out her arms.

Acting on instinct, he took her into his arms, holding her close. She was so small, he could feel her heart beating right next to his own.

"Will you read me a story? Grandpa sometimes reads me stories. I can read on my own to, but it's more fun being read to."

He wordlessly carried her into the library. It was a big room, with lots and lots of books, and a big plush chair with huge armrests that looked strangely old.

"So, what do you want to read?"

"Can we read Machiavelli? I like him. The book is called 'The Prince'. Here."

He went to where she had said.

"No, here." She was pointing at a book he'd never heard of before.

He took it, seated himself in the big plush chair with Morgan on his lap, and began reading.


	2. Nighttime

**Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's.**

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**Nighttime**

When he finished reading the fifth chapter of "The Prince", his voice felt distinctly sore, he had no idea what time it was, and Morgan lay sprawled all over him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"We should stop now."

"Please? Pretty please?"

"Morge, I'm tired. We can finish tomorrow, I promise." He didn't know where the nickname had come from. It had seemed natural to him.

"You gave me a nickname." The girl looked right into his eyes, so much like his own. Her voice was quiet, filled with a strange awe.

"I did. Now, how about going to sleep?"

"But I'm not ti-", she yawned, "-red."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure of that, young lady? You belong into bed."

"O-okay." Another yawn.

He gathered her up in his arms, the book in his hand.

He put the book back on the shelf, then he carried her to the bedroom and layed her in the crib. There was a bed in there, too, he noted.

He was a bit surprised to see both clothing for him and her in the wardrobe, but he shrugged, figuring old Moldieshorts had planned this situation thoroughly, at least.

He looked at her. Her eyes were closed.

Quickly, he changed into pajamas.

"You look strange."

He turned around. Had she seen him changing?

"Can you help me with the pajamas?"

Most likely, she had.

He helped her change, also changing her - ugh - nappies. He was pretty sure that was simply disgusting. Still, Morgan needed it to be comfortable, so it was worth him feeling a little - okay, a lot - disgusted.

Then, he picked her up and put her in the crib. Just moments later, he collapsed into his bed. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

In the middle of the night, Harry was woken up by a strange noise, right in the middle of a nightmare.

It was little Morgan, turning and mumbling in her crib, also having a nightmare, then waking up with a scream.

He held her in his arms while she sobbed into his shoulder, babbling almost incoherently.

"There... Grandpa... Muggles... screams..." While it wasn't much, he was pretty sure of what had happened.

That sick bastard had forced his own granddaughter to watch?! Well, sort-of-granddaughter, but still, a child, barely older than a year!

"If you want, you can sleep in my bed." He didn't know where his offer had come from. It sounded fatherly, he felt. Nothing the Dursleys had ever done for him.

"I could?"

"You could."

"Yes, Dad." He didn't notice the label then, but later, he would.

For now, he took her out of the crib. She slept right beside him, in his arms.

Both of them slept, without nightmares, until the morning came.


	3. Laws and Truth

**Disclaimer: Okay, thrice the charm, and I'm not going to repeat this I'm not JKR, Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. This story does, my computer does, and quite a lot of other things do, but not Harry Potter, unfortunately. But, hey, JKR, if you're reading this and want to change it, I wouldn't object!**

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**Laws and Truth**

Two weeks of living in the same rooms as Morgan without outside interruption had changed something within Harry. It had been two weeks of nappy-changing, spoon-force-feeding (the girl was picky. Way too picky. Don't ask about bananas), reading stories, explaining things, and Harry felt like he'd never want to change his life again.

Morgan occupied him one hundred percent, except for the rare times she spent reading, while he cooked lunch or dinner.

It also had been two weeks of being called "Dad". His heart still lifted every time she used that word.

He'd never realized how much he had wanted a family of his own until he'd met Morge. She left him absolutely no time to ponder his situation, his friends, or anything, really.

He should have known Ole Tom had an ulterior motive.

After two weeks that had been too good to last - while also being the most exhausting time he'd ever had - the Dark Lord showed up again.

Harry had been reading to Morge, another book, one with wizarding fairy tales.

"So, had a good time, son?"

He gritted his teeth. Lately, the Dark Lord had a tendency to make him do that.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Then, the Dark Lord took out his wand, flipped the book out of his hands and pulled Morge away from him.

"Leave her alone!"

"Ah... that's the beauty of it. You join me, she'll grow up happy and loved, with you. You don't, and, well... Crucio."

A split second, and Morgan was screaming.

"You monster."

"Yes, yes I am. What made you recognize that? The fact that I have slits for eyes and my nose is halfway gone?"

He grinded his teeth. What should he do? Betray his friends, or let Morgan be tortured... his friends were his friends. They meant everything to him, and he'd known them for years. He'd only known Morge for two weeks. But Morgan... she was full of life, and still so small, and so clever, and she was family, the only real blood family he had.

The Dursley's didn't count. And she called him Dad.

"I'll join you. But don't think I've got any reason but making sure that Morgan grows up happy amd safe."

Happier than I ever was, he added in his head.

Voldemort smirked.

* * *

The next few weeks, he spent caring for the little girl, still locked in the room without his wand, anxiously awaiting being inducted into Voldie's Circle.

He didn't want to. There had to be another solution, like just taking Morgan and going back.

Another door had appeared - he could make potions, now.

Hell of a lot of good it did.

His plans to flee were interrupted by a law book he found on the breakfast table one morning. It detailed what should happen to "creatures created in Dark Rituals".

Everyone was not only allowed, but obligated to kill them. They weren't seen as human or even sentient. It was a common practice to torture them to death, he found in another book.

Yet another showed that one of the people who had pushed for this law had been Albus Dumbledore.

Well, that put an end to all plans to flee. He couldn be sure that someone would just kill Morge if he went back. He didn't want her to get killed. She was his responsibility, now. She wasn't even two years old. He wouldn't get her killed and tortured.

Of course, there was the off-chance that the information was wrong.

He'd found instructions for Veritaserum and its counter in a book. Brewing didn't take too long.

When Voldiesnort came the next time, he was ready. Morge was in the library, reading.

"I read something in a book, my Lord." Using that adress had become normal. He had to, otherwise Voldie wouldn't react.

"Anything interesting?"

"I want you to subject yourself to Veritaserum."

"Why should I, son?" It grated on his nerves, that adress.

"Because I have to know whether you manipulated any of the knowledge in the books."

"Couldn't I just have manipulated the recipe for Veritaserum?" Voldie grinned. A clear indicator that he enjoyed this.

"I know a bit, and if I join you, I'll get my stuff afterwards. Then, I'll double-check the recipe."

"Ah, well. So, let's bring it on."

"I'll test you for the counter-potion and resistance first."

"Clever, m'boy. Clever."

Apparently, having Morge around had been good for the Dark Tosser's sanity.

Harry checked. He was pretty sure the spells worked. No counter-potion, no resistance.

He spilled two drops of his self-made Veritaserum into the other's drink.

"Drink."

Voldie grinned, and drowned it all in one big gulp.

"What's your birth name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. After my father and my mother's father."

"Did you change any of the information in the library right here?"

"There's an old book I scribbled into when I was still a pupil. Other than that, nothing."

"Did you manipulate or withhold any information concerning the laws governing sentient beings made in Dark Rituals?"

"I did not. At least not knowingly. They haven't been repelled, they haven't been changed, and they likely won't be as long as Dumbledork's in office."

Damn.

"Do they say that exactly what was written in the book "Modern Laws governing Sentient Creatures and their Discussion"?"

"You mean the book I left on your breakfast table a few weeks ago?"

Harry held up the book.

"Yes, they are worded exactly like in this book, except for one misspelled word. I remember that it annoyed me, but I forgot what it was."

He couldn't think of any more loopholes that might have been left.

He gave Voldie the counter.

"Bloody hell."  
"Don't swear. Morge might hear you." Voldemort was so enjoying this.

"She can't. I hope, at least."

A voice came from the library.

"BLOODY HELL!"

He and Voldemort shared a long look.

"How is it that children always pick up those words you don't want them to pick up?"

"I have no idea. Come on, let's lecture my granddaughter on the proper use of words."


	4. Death Eater and Dollies

**Death Eater and Dollies**

He was standing in the Dark Lord's Throne Room, clutching his forearm. It burned and seared, as if he was being branded like cattle.

The Dark Mark.

"Now, you have permission to go. But remember, one wrong move..."

His wand was handed back to him.

He knew the consequences.

* * *

Harry was slowly creeping up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

His stuff still was there.

Good.

He checked whether everything was there - Firebolt, cloak, Marauder's Map - after all, Ron might have borrowed something, Harry had told him once he could in such a situation - then he used the featherlight charm on his trunk.

He kept himself and the trunk disillusioned, slowly creeping down the stairs, noticing the faces of the pupils he met, the whispers about him, the hope he'd come back, the rumours he had joined.

He saw the look of his friends' faces at those rumours. They didn't believe, they defended him.

If only they knew. But he had to make sure Morgan was safe. He'd given her a middle name now. Morgan Elisabeth Potter, after the grandmother he never knew, his mother's mother.

She had declared it the best middle name in the world.

* * *

"So, Harry... time to prove your loyalty", the Dark Lord cackled, and Harry had a really, really bad feeling about what would happen. It was a weekend...

"We'll attack Hogsmeade today."

Hogsmeade weekend.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the sitting room, staring at his forearm, where the Dark Mark was burned.

He'd been publicly revealed earlier today.

The looks on his friends' faces, on Neville, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, it had almost been too much for him.

He'd shot a Cruciatus at Ginny.

She'd screamed, a scream that had been so similar to Morge's he'd just wanted to throw up.

He couldn't, though. He had to make sure Morge was safe. He didn't quite know why it was that important to him, but every second he spent with her made him grow even fonder of her.

Still, he hadn't wanted to betray his friends, and if he'd try to contact them, Grampa had some nice tortures in hope for his little experiment.

Grampa. She still called Voldemort that.

She probably had the most crazy family tree ever.

A weak grin stole itself onto his face, before disappearing again. All he could see was Ginny's form, as she lay writhing on the floor, under his own Cruciatus Curse.

He'd had a crush on her, before Morge came into his life and changed... well, everything. He was Morge's Dad now.

He didn't quite know when she'd become the most important thing in his life. It had probably been one time she had given him that infernal grin of hers, that was so innocent and yet so devious, like a mixture of his smile and the Dark Lord's smirk.

The smile just melted his heart away. She was his. His daughter, his child. And with that realization came the knowledge that he was responsible to her.

Of course, there was also the fact that even if he somehow managed to grab Morge and flee, Morge would get killed. By the Ministry, the Order, anyone. Stupid laws.

That law was the main reason he hadn't tried to run. If it wouldn't exist, he could take Morge with him. But he couldn't get her killed, and he couldn't leave her alone, so he was stuck in between.

Stuck being a damn servant to the Dark Tosser.

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

The worst part of living in so close a living space with Morge were the visits.

"GRAMPA!"

She ran, to Voldemort, stretching his arms up to him, and he picked her up, carefully. It was one of the strangest and yet most regular views of Harry's new life.

"Where's my little Dark Lady? Where's my little Dark Lady? There she is."

If anyone had ever told Harry that the Dark Lord would do baby talk, he'd had them admitted to St. Mungo's.

Though his version was decidedly creepy.

He thought of one of the times he'd asked Morge why she still liked the man. "Well, he's only doing it to get what he wants. He likes me, and so, I like him. I mean, letting feelings into the way of your plans would be just plain stupid."

It was a rather disturbing answer from a kid that wasn't even out of her nappies, though it was to be expected from one that thought Machiavelli an author for suitable bedtime stories.

This time, there were two other visitors. He hadn't even known they knew about Morge.

"Auntie Bella!" Okay, nothing weird here. In all likelyhood, Bellatrix had babysitted the tyke pretty often. Someone needed to, after all, and it definitely helped explain some of Morge's attitude.

The other person was Lucius Malfoy.

Tom introduced him.

"That's another Uncle, Morgan."

Harry decided to have a little fun.

"Yeah, that's a friend of your grandpa's, Uncle Lucy." He did his best to imitate Morge's most innocent smile.

If glares could kill, Lucius Malfoy would have been in trouble for murdering his Lord's new most favourite weapon.

"Uncle Lucy! Do you want to play with me?"

Malfoy senior opened his mouth, likely to tell her "Go away! I don't play with little brats!" in no uncertain terms, when Lord Voldemort glared at him.

"Good, then we'll go play dollies, Uncle Lucy!"

Harry looked at Voldemort, both of them barely surpressing their laughter, while Lestrange looked... jealous of the newly-dubbed Lucy?

"Auntie Bella!"

Bellatrix joined Lucy and Morge happily. Bellatrix Lestrange liked playing with dolls.

Both him and Voldemort couldn't hold their laughter anymore and nearly suffocated, until...

"GRAMPA! DAD! WE NEED YOU! Grandpa, someone has to play Mr. Twinkles!"

Both of them sighed, resigned to their fate.

Little girls, apparently, could make even a Dark Lord who had created them using a Dark Lady's bones and a Dark Ritual and only kept them around for blackmail purposes, make play with dollies. Even ones that remarkably resembled a certain headmaster and always, always ended up getting fried by the dragon, on their player's and Morge's insistance.

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**AN:**

** phoenixfyre2552: First two questions: No telling. Third one: He mainly tortured her for a second to demonstrate that he could and will torture her if Harry doesn't comply. Otherwise, Harry might have tried for a confrontation, and then Voldie would have to hold her under the Cruciatus even longer to demonstrate that, yes, there will be consequences. It's simply intimidation.**


	5. Reactions

**Reactions**

Ron hadn't believed it.

He hadn't believed it when Dumbledore gave the news that Harry was a traitor.

He hadn't believed it when people showed up, claiming to have been tortured by a grinning Harry.

He hadn't believed it when a figure looking suspiciously like Harry had shown up in the smoke surrounding Hogsmeade.

He hadn't believed it when he'd seen Harry, his brother-in-all-but-blood Harry, without sleeves and a Dark Mark on his forearm, standing beside Voldemort, though the doubts had started kicking in, then.

He'd finally believed Harry had started following the Dark Lord when he'd heard his sister scream under the Cruciatus Curse.

And he was still hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding, that Harry had some damn reason to betray them, something stupid and noble that would have been just so... Harry, and yet, he knew he didn't.

There was no one he knew of there Voldemort could blackmail him with, and it broke his heart, seeing his brother attack.

What was worse, though, was Hermione's reaction. He'd been her brother, too, and she'd loved him, like a sister did. She might have accused Ron of having the emotional range of a teaspoon, but he knew it wasn't quite true.

After all, as far as feelings where concerned, even he could see an elephant right in front of him.

She'd sobbed, she'd cried, she'd screamed for hours. She even fell asleep in his arms, once.

Ginny was just staring at the ceiling, catatonic, like the Longbottoms. Her mind hadn't been broken, but Ron suspected that her heart had. He knew he was a jealous, overprotective prick sometimes, but right now, he was holding them together, somehow.

It was insanely difficult.

And he still hoped beyond hope that Harry was innocent and that there was some other explanation.

But he couldn't think of one, no matter how hard he tried.

* * *

Hermione didn't want to believe it, but she did, as soon as the words came out of Dumbledore's mouth.

Every day had only given her more proof, and still, she didn't really want to believe. The sweet boy from first year who'd helped save her from a troll after his git of a best friend had insulted her (Although, to be fair, the git had saved her and he wasn't that much of a git any more) a cool, heartless killer that joined his parents' murderer out of his own free will? It was ludicrous. And yet, she believed, because every single bit of proof eliminated yet the next explanation she tried to hold against her belief.

She was running out of explanations, and she wished she wouldn't. She wished she could believe, like Ron did, but there was too much proof. She wanted to believe, so desperately, that it had all been just a set-up, that there was some reason, but there was none.

She couldn't see how he could be innocent, she didn't want to believe in his guilt, and yet, she did.

* * *

Ginny couldn't believe it. Harry? Putting her under the Cruciatus? Even the idea was ludicrous. There had to be Polyjuice Potion or something involved.

There had to be.

She couldn't believe the boy who'd saved her life in first year, who'd helped her, whom she had a crush on since she could remember, would do that.

He'd been too stupidly noble to do something like that. Too much of a good person.

She just couldn't, even though the evidence was overwhelming.

There had to be a reason. There just had to be.

She was staring at the ceiling, and Ron, of all people, was trying to cheer her up. He was failing, of course, but he was persistent.

* * *

Luna didn't know what to think. Hary torturing somebody, that was like saying there weren't any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks! He was nice! Her friend! Not a monster.

And yet, she'd seen him torture Ginny.

* * *

Neville felt betrayed. He'd trusted Harry, and he'd stabbed them all in the back. And still, he wanted nothing more than there to be a because. There had to be a because. Harry was a hero, their leader, he'd never just let them down, would he? Neville had the bad feeling that he had, this time.

* * *

Draco was confused.

He'd seen Potter, smiling, standing right beside the Dark Lord, torturing people.

Potter. How in the name of Merlin's saggy... he didn't finish that sentence, just in case his mother could read his mind... had that happened? The Golden Gryffindor Boy, beside the Dark Lord? Helping him?

And yet, he'd given him a piece of advice.

"Malfoy. If you know what's good for you, run. The guy's a crazy, evil megalomaniac that wants to eradicate most of the Wizarding World. Think. Use that brain of yours. He won't share power, he won't let you have anything. Stay neutral, hide somewhere else, help the Light, it doesn't matter. But just go away."

He hadn't replied. He couldn't. It had been the oddest piece of advice he'd ever gotten from Potter.

The worst part was that it sounded like he knew what he was talking about. And the more Draco thought, the more he realized that Potter likely was right.

It was time to become a turncoat, like Potter. Just in the other direction.


	6. Christmas

**Christmas**

Harry felt oddly elated.

It was Christmas time, and he and Voldemort were in Diagon Alley, disguised through Polyjuice Potion with hair from two unsuspecting Muggles, trying to go through with their plan.

It was a most difficult assignment, complicated and hard to pull off, involving a great deal of spionage, caution and attention.

It was really, really hard to find suitable Christmas presents for everyone while Bella was babysitting Morgan.

In the beginning, the two of them had split up, trying to find suitable presents for each other. He still found that bit a bit... surreal.

He'd gotten him a book in Knockturn Alley named "The Darkest of the Darke" by someone called M.l.F. He had a pretty good idea who had written it, and he would ask Tom to bequeath it to Morgan one day, after all, it was a family heirloom for her.

Of course, a simple copying charm would work as well.

Then, he and Tom had met up in the Leaky, both of them very hard trying to get hints of what their Christmas present would be, while munching candy.

"So, where did you go to?", Harry asked, trying at least for the appearence of subtlety.

Tom just grinned.

"A part of London close or identical to Diagon Alley." Great, very informative. It sounded like the typical kind of answer Morgan would have given. Harry smiled. She had gotten some traits from her grandfather, after all.

Silence, apart from candy munching and crunching.

Tom broke it.

"What's my present?"

Harry blinked. Why was Tom so unsubtle? It didn't suit him.

"No telling."

"Aw, come on."

He tried his best to do a puppy dog look.

It came out looking exactly like Morgan's, enough to creep Harry out thoroughly.

"Imitating your granddaughter doesn't help. Neither does pouting."

"I don't pout! _I am the Dark Lord Voldemort!_" Tom hissed that last part in Parseltongue.

"You do."

"I don't!"

"You do."

"I don't!"

"You do-o-o."

This continued until they reached a Potions Ingredients store in Knockturn Alley, to find something for one Severus Snape.

They settled on Basilisk Venom. Snape would get a heart attack - a Christmas present by both the Dark Lord and one Harry Potter. They'd get a good laugh over that one.

For Lucius Malfoy, they decided on something that was both very mean and really, really funny, at least for them. A mirror engraved with the words

"For Uncle Lucy, from Tom, Harry and Morgan". Morgan had begged for a gift for Uncle Lucy where he'd see from whom he had gotten it, and wanted herself to be included.

The next hurden was Bellatrix' Christmas present.

They decided on some old, charmed Muggle torture devices they found in a dingy shop in a side-street next to Knockturn Alley. Like with the other presents, they solved the problem of transportation by banishing the stuff straight home, a feat that impressed the store's owner immensely.

When they came to Knockturn Alley again, Harry had a brilliant idea.

"Tom... what if we give some presents to other people?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how about my old teachers, besides Snape, I mean? Flitwick's easy, Trelawney is, as well, just like Sprout, Hagrid, easy, but I have no idea for Dumbledore and McGonagall."

"No presents for Flitwick, Sprout, or Hagrid. I remember Hagrid and Sprout from my own school career, and I've never liked Flitwick."

"Okay, so presents for Trelawney, Dumbles and McGonagall. Wait a moment, you went into school with McGonagall as well. Is there something you have to tell me?"

"No!" Tom blushed, actually blushed.

"You've got a crush on McGonagall, of all people?"

"Well, had. When I was younger."

"You still have."

"No."

"Yes."

"I don't."

"You do, and there's no denying. C'mon, loverboy, let's get some presents."

"I'm not a loverboy!"

Harry laughed.

* * *

Minutes later, they were going over different necklaces and bracelets, until finally, Tom found one with a beautiful snake design.

"D'you think she'll like it?"

"Sure. It _is_ beautiful."

"D'you think I should charm it or anything?"

"No, better not. I mean, she might go and think it's dangerous if it's charmed in any way."

"True."

They paid, went out of the jewellery shop.

"Tom..."

"Yes?"  
"You do know your crush is about as likely to be ever anything more as it is for someone to develop a stable and reliable way of long distance time travel?"

Tom looked at him, with a certain bitterness in his eyes.

"Yes."

"Do you ever regret your choices?"

"Sometimes."

They went on. Harry entered another shop for a short time, getting his professor a one-year subscription gift certificate for Transfiguration Today.

"So, what will we get Dumbledork?", Harry asked, attempting to light the mood.

"No idea." Tom remained indifferent.

Harry thought what Morgan would get him.

"I think I have the perfect gift."

When they exited yet another bookstore, both of them were laughing heartily.

They'd bought a book, titled "Fashion No-Goes" for Albus Dumbledore. One of the No-Goes were purple robes on "wizards clearly beyond a hundred".

They'd shared a laugh over that one.

For Trelawney, they bought a crystal ball without any magical properties whatsoever.

Then, Morgan's presents came. Books, toys, a chess set, a kiddie broom, more books, some new dolls, and of course, loads of candy.

Part of what was intended to be Morgan's present ended up in the Dark Lord's stomach, though. Apparently, he liked candy a lot, but never could eat in his follower's presence. It would not have been dignified enough.

* * *

Meanwhile...

Bellatrix liked babysitting Morgan. It was easy, fun, and right now, they had the Throne Room to themselves. Pot... Harry had insisted that guests would only be allowed when he allowed them and had warded his rooms quite thoroughly.

At the moment, they were playing tag, and Bella had to marvel at the fitness the little girl displayed. While she was out of breath, Morgan was running around like a whirlwind, still.

"Mo-", she puffed, "-rgan, would you like to -" puff "do something else?"

"What should we do?"

Bella thought, long and hard.

Then, a slow smile spread across her face.

"How about I teach you some magic?"

* * *

When Harry and Voldemort - now in their own bodies again - came home, they faced pandemonium.

The Throne Room was full of scorch marks, there were some smaller fires still around, and Tom's throne was burning, while Morgan and Bella were standing in the Throne Room's middle, Morgan holding Bella's wand.

"BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, WHAT DID YOU DO? You were supposed to take care nothing happened!"

"MORGAN ELISABETH POTTER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING BURNING YOUR GRANDFATHER'S THRONE?!"

"Uh... see, I wanted to teach her magic, and we, uhm, got a little carried away..."

"What did you teach her?"

"Well, 'Incendio' at first, and when that worked, I sort of thaught her about the fire rope charm, and then we might have tried darkfyre..."

Darkfyre? That was definitely not meant for children. It was basically fiendfyre that cut be put out by enchanted water. Heavily enchanted water.

"You tried to teach my barely eighteen-months-old daughter how to produce DARKFYRE? You could have gotten her killed!"

"Wait a second, Morgan actually produced darkfyre? I can't believe you did! Oh, you're gonna be such a great Dark Lady, Morgan, yes you are, yes you a-are! Such a great Dark Lady, such a grea-"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. Do not tell me you approve of this."

Voldemort looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"No. The thought never crossed my mind. Honestly."

"Good. Especially because your Throne Room was destroyed."

Tom looked around, as if just now noticing the destruction.

He grimaced.

"That was a nice Throne Room. Morgan..."

"I am sorry, Grandpa."

She looked up at him, with a look so full of innocence that Voldemort just sighed resignedly and started cleaning up.

"Bella, what are you waiting for? You're to blame for this mess, you help!"

Bellatrix took her wand from a Morgan that was rather unwilling to part with this new, fabulous toy, and started cleaning up.

* * *

Finally, Christmas morning came.

* * *

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Remus, Fred, George, Hagrid and Dobby were rather surprised to get a Christmas present from Harry.

That was nothing, however, to the shock Sybil Trelawney felt when "The subjects of Your Prophecy" sent her a crystall ball for Christmass. Rather proud of herself, she decided to show it around, to everyone, including an Albus Dumbledore who hadn't exactly been amused by "Fashion No-Goes - from H. and V."

It had given him a thorough shock, realizing that Harry and Voldemort had bought people Christmas presents, together.

Like a family or something. Which was entirely ridiculous, of course. Why on Earth sould they consider each other part of the same family?

When Minerva McGonagall found a parcel that contained both a one-year subscription gift certificate for Transfiguration Today from "H.J.P." and a snake bracelet by "Tom", she nearly got a heart attack.

Both Albus Dumbledore met up a short time later with Filius Flitwick, who would keep their gifts for the next few days, checking them for curses and charms.

Nothing.

Still, McGonagall thought, why had her old schoolmate sent her a curse-free bracelet?

She wore it, of course. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, after all.

Snape fainted twice that day. The first, when he read who had sent him a present - the Dark Lord and Potter, of all people! - and the second time when he realized what they'd gotten him.

He had a headache for the rest of the day. He'd fallen right into his bed-post when he'd fainted the first time.

* * *

Bellatrix was overjoyed with her gift, while Lucy... uh... Lucius was not. He grinded his teeth and said "Thank you", though it took him a lot of visible effort.

It earned him a knee-crushing Morgan-hug.

Morgan, of course, loved Christmas best. She'd made a picture for her Dad that consisted mainly of odd lines. Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was supposed to depict, but he guessed that didn't matter. His daughter was brilliant in almost everything else, including in things he desperately wished she wasn't brilliant at, so her non-existent artistic skills didn't matter.

For Lord Voldemort, she'd made a string necklace with a heart cut out of cardboard. It said "World's Best Grampa" in a rather strange and obviously not very practised handwriting.

Tom put it around his neck, but stuffed it under his robes. He couldn't wear such a thing openly, after all. He was rather happy to see Harry's gift, and promised he would make a copy for Morgan.

Harry was rather surprised by Voldemort's gift: a snitch designed to stay in the room and not move too much above ground-level.  
It was a rather good gift, he thought.

Morgan, of course, was up high the whole day, looking at and testing every single present she'd gotten, eating most of her candy with her Grandpa, until both of them got stomach cramps, playing chess against her Uncle Lucy, who lost - Voldemort glared at him - then against Aunt Bella, who mainly won, though in the end, Morgan nearly won one game, flying on her toy broom and nearly crashing into Harry, who was saved by his Dursley-required reflexes, and trying to fly with Nagini on her toy broom, where Harry discovered that, yes, snakes were able to be afraid of heights.

All in all, it was one of the best Christmases Harry had ever had.


	7. Normal Day

**Normal days**

Reading a book about Dark Arts while his daughter devoured books on simple potions, Harry sat in his favourite big plush chair in the library.

Most of the authors had a decided "Dark is not Evil" point of view, and slowly, Harry had started to agree with them. Tactics weren't evil, and most "Dark" Spells and Rituals didn't have any negative side-effects he could see.

Horcruxes probably had, though, especially in combination with an already unstable mind. It was one of the more interesting pieces of magic Harry had found out about.

Casting the Cruciatus Curse was astonishingly easy, Harry had found. A first year could do it. Hell, Morgan could do it, though she was probably the most precocious child of her age.

Harry was thinking about writing a book himself, about the cutesy factor of little girls.

He smiled as he remembered yesterday.

* * *

"GRAMPA! AUNTIE BELLA!"

Morge was hugging them both. She always loved it if visitors besides her Grandpa came.

"UNCLE LUCY! YEAH! UNCLE LUCY! Are we gonna play dollies again?"

Despite the best efforts of Malfoy to correct her, the nickname had stuck. Likely because his Lord liked it, too.

Apart from the whole blackmail and how to educate Morgan issue, Harry and Tom got along surprisingly well. Their interaction was purely Slytherin, acting pleasantly and even forming an odd friendship while both of them knew and acknowledged the other would eradicate or hurt them should the opportunity and the need arise. In Harry's case, it was need without opportunity, in Tom's, opportunity without need.

It surprised Harry just how fast he'd turned from the Gryffindor Golden Boy into a Death Eater blackmailed into service that could go toe to toe with the best of Slytherin. He suspected that part of him always had been there, somehow.

"Or, no, I've got a better idea! We're gonna play dressup!"

Soon, all of them were in different layers of clothing.

"Dad, growl. Really growl."

"ROW!"

"Now, that's a dragon roar!"

Harry was playing the dragon. He supposed it could have been worse. The reason why he had gotten the role: You're fierce, Daddy, and protective, and very dragony!

He couldn't help but grin while playing. Partially, the reason were the other's roles.

"Okay, Auntie Bellatrix, swing your sword and shout something!"

"Why?"

"You're the knight, Auntie Bellatrix, you have to swing your sword and shout! That's what knights do! Besides, you make an excellent knight. You can shout really well, Auntie Bella!"

Any further comments on Bellatrix' part were silenced by a glare from her master that said "If I have to do this, then you have to, as well, or get crucio'd."

Bellatrix swung her sword and shouted some barely coherent words.

Apparently coherent enough for Morgan.

"Bloody damn hell! What does that mean, 'bloody damn hell'?"

"You shouldn't repeat these words, Morgan", the Dark Lord said.

"Grandpa! In role!"

"You should not repeat these words, sweetie-pie", the Dark Lord fluted, acting remarkably like an insane old woman, which was good, because he had been forced into the role of the grandmother by one pout and a puppy-dog look of Morgan. Harry could have sworn her power of being cute, something that all little girls possessed, had been magically enhanced somehow.

"Do I really have to do this?", Malfoy asked.

"Yes!", the rest of them chorused.

"Pretty please, Uncle Lucy!"

Malfoy looked like he'd wanted to crucio somebody.

"But why do I get this role?"

"Because you have pretty hair." Yep, Malfoy really wanted to crucio somebody right now.

A glare from the "grandmother" convinced him to say his line.

"Oh, rescue me, my prince! I am naught but a helpless princess, forced into this tower by this fierce dragon!"

Harry bit on his lip. Don't start laughing, don't start laughing, don't start laughing... You're in the same situation. But you're not a princess, a part of his mind whispered. Dragons are much, much better.

"That was well done, Uncle Lucy. You really make a great princess!"

He, Tom and Bella shared a look. Then, they burst out laughing.

"Did I say something funny?"

* * *

Harry smiled as he remembered yesterday. Lucy the Princess would forever be burned into his mind.

Maybe he'd write a book, too, one day. The most important paragraph:

"_One of the most important and underestimated powers is the power of cutesy, especially common in little girls. It can get Dark Lord to play dollies and Dark Minions to dress up like a princess. Puppy dog looks and pouts by someone with this power are much more difficult to defend against than the Imperius curse._"

He opened the next page of the book he was reading.

"_There is, of course, the Ritual called 'Making'. It is, in fact, capable of making new humans by mixing the blood of at least two others into the potion, whose recipe is on the next few pages. The mixture and amount determines the relationship, which is, indeed, recognized by magic. Someone whose blood has been used in the Making will feel a familial bond to the child made, something that can be used in various ways. There have been some rather interesting experiments with this Ritual. Some variations can bring different results than just a normal child, for example, the intelligence can be influenced, the magical power, specific talents in the family line can be switched on and off, and some rather strange powers can be given, for instance an automatic aura of darkness or something rather similar to the Veela allure..._"

Making. Morge had been Made.

Well, now Harry understood why she was so damn cute and clever.

Then, a voice called him to the Throne Room.

* * *

"My servant... another assignment: It's Christmas soon."

Tom twirled his wand.

"And, my Lord?"

"Well, could you go Christmas shopping for me?"

Harry grinned.

"Can't do it yourself, Tom?"

The Dark Lord looked rather sour.

"No, I thought I'd take the job of caring for Morgan this time."

Harry winced slightly. He had not wanted to remember how thoroughly Bellatrix had made clear that she was unable to do that job the last two times they'd let her babysit. The first time... well, that had been sort of funny, for Harry, at least.

The second one, not so much. Teaching a two-and-a-halfyear-old Dark spells that make people's guts turn inside out was not his idea of responsible baby-sitting. Especially when he had to help clean up the mess.

That was why Harry went away for two days with a long list for "Stuff to be bought for Christmas".

* * *

That night, Morgan had a nightmare, and her Dad wasn't there.

She slowly crept out of the room, opened the door, and went to the corridor leading to both the Throne Room and her Grandpa's quarters.

She opened the latter's door, squishing in.

She knew where her Grandfather's bedroom was. She opened that door, then, she shook him awake.

"Morgan? What is it? Go to sleep."

The Dark Lord yawned.

"I had a nightmare, Grampa", she whispered.

Then, she gave him a puppy-dog look.

"Can I sleep here?"

For just a second, it looked like Lord Voldemort would refuse.

Then, he sighed.

"Okay, you can creep in."

And so, Morgan slept peacefully besides her Grandpa.

When Harry heard of this scene the next day, he couldn't stop laughing for a full minute.

It might have been the first time Morgan sought comfort with her Grandfather, but it turned out not to be the last. Whenever Harry was on an over-night assignment, Morgan would creep into the sheets besides her Grandpa, often without asking.

He couldn't refuse her, anyway.


	8. Family Torture

**Family Torture**

When a Death Eater screwed up majorly lately, it apparently turned into a family thingy.

It was sort of odd.

Marcus Flint was kneeling in front of the throne.

"Forgive me, my Lord, forgive me."

Like hell Tom would. He was standing beside the throne, like a guard of honour, his wand in hand, with little Morgan standing beside him.

That idiot Flint had just given away ten of the Dark Lord's men by accident and a minor, subtle, unnoticeable compulsion charm, curtesy of one Harry James Potter. Of course, the mission itself hadn't been too intelligent either.

The Dark Lord had needed a stress reliever, after all.

It had been more than a year now since he had joined, he'd participated in countless raids, always unmasked, always on the Lord's right side.

"I am most disappointed in you, Flint! CRUCIO!"

Harry allowed himself a grin. Served the git right.

The Dark Lord's temper had cooled down, and Harry idly wondered what he'd do next. He hadn't been in that bad a mood since Draco Malfoy joined the Order.

Uncle Lucy had been really angry about that one.

"Girl, come here."

The Dark Lord never spoke Morgan's name in front of servant's not Harry, Bellatrix or Lucius.

"Here."

The Dark Lord gave Morgan his wand.

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Now, the incantation is 'Crucio'. Can you try it, please?"

"Okay, Grandpa. Crucio!"

Flint screamed.

"Very good, but you'll have to work a little on that wand movement. Now, try it again..."

"Crucio!"

Flint screamed louder.

"Well done, but you're stressing the 'i' too much. Again."

"Crucio!"

Flint screamed even louder. Served the git right. He'd seen Morgan only a few times. The first time he'd suggested to "Use her a little" with a leer that made every father alarm in Harry's head go off, and that had gotten him several Crucio's by the Dark Lord.

He was one of the few not-that trusted ones that had ever seen Morge.

Apparently, the Dark Lord was trying to get Morge to change that. Harry wished he could have spared her that, but it appeared she was having fun at the moment.

The girl loved her grandfather, strangely enough.

What was even stranger was the genuine liking Voldemort had taken to her, in spite of threatening to torture her.

"Now, that was almost perfect. Give it another try, and then we can move on to the Killing Curse!"

"No killing before she's six, Tom."

Voldie glared at him.

"I'm serious. It might be bad for her."

"Oh, all right, I'll just have to do it myself, then", Voldemort grumbled.

"Crucio!"

"Girl, I think you've got the curse down pat", he said, with a note of pride in his voice.

Morgan laughed, a sincerely happy laugh, because she had made her Grandfather proud.

It made Harry shiver.

Still, she was his little girl, too.

* * *

This evening, they had a serious discussion.

"Now, Morge, what did I tell you?"

"One shouldn't crucio people."

"Exactly."

"But why?"

"Because it hurts others, and hurting others isn't nice."

"But you hurt others. You hurt that Ginny girl, even though you liked her."

"That was to protect you. I love you, Morge, I'd do anything to protect you. But there's a difference between protecting someone and doing something for fun."

"Okay, I understand, Daddy."

"I'm glad you do."

"Are we going to help people someday?"

He swooped her up.

"We are."

"What will happen with Grandpa?"

"I don't know. Nothing good, likely."

"And with Uncle Lucy and Aunt Bella?"

"Nothing good, either."

"Grandpa thought something about horcruxes."

Harry froze. He knew what a horcrux was.

"I know where they are, Dad. Grandpa isn't always very careful with what he thinks if only him and I are in the room, and he sometimes lets his Occlumency shields down around me. He doesn't know I know Legilimency."

She looked at him, and he knew she understood what it meant, and it was crushing her inside. She loved her grandfather, she really did.

She just loved life and him more.

Then, she cracked up.

"But Dad... Flint's expression really was funny!"

Both of them shared a hearty laugh.


	9. Horcruxes

**Horcruxes**

Dumbledore didn't know what to do.

He'd been so sure he could find the Ring there, and... nothing! It had already been gone when he came.

And Harry... Harry had switched sides. Maybe, this war was truly over.

* * *

Harry smiled. He'd gotten the ring right before the old coot could. The more time he spent with Tom, the more he learnt about him, the more he understood that Dumbledore's attitude towards him had helped shape him into Lord Voldemort more than either of them would ever admit.

Two horcruxes down, another four to go. Diary, check, Ring, check.

Cup, Locket, Diadem, Snake missing.

He went home.

Morge was on the sofa, cuddling with Nagini, both of them hissing back and forth, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And for Morgan, he thought, it just might be.

* * *

Breaking into Grimmauld Place and stealing the locket hadn't been difficult, in comparison to the wrong track with the cave. Tom still didn't know that.

Harry owned the place, and he didn't have any intention of helping him find it, so that was alright with Harry. He might have been a traitor, but not that much of one.

He would make sure Morgan could grow up happy and safe. And if he'd have to sabotage and kill her beloved grandfather for that, then, good riddance.

He slowly crept to the kitchens, where Kreacher kept his things.

The locket was in his sleeping place.

Bingo.

Basilisk fangs had been easy to get.

Bye-bye, locket.

Creeping out of Grimmauld place, he saw Remus and Tonks, side by side, arm in arm.

He felt a pang. Tonks was pregnant. For a fleeting second, he thought of those he had left behind, Ron and Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny...

Morgan.

He did all of this for Morgan.

Diary, check, Ring, check, Locket, check.

He took the Locket with him. It would be a nice spoil for Morge, should they ever escape. After all, the blood of Salazar Slytherin did flow in her veins.

* * *

When he came home, Tom had been roped into another one of Morgan's games. He already knew how it would end, it always ended the same way:

The dragon ate the grandmother, roasted the knight, and flew off with the priness in his claws. In Morgan's terms, that was the happiest ending possible. She liked dragons.

Which was why she made sure he played him all the time. Though flying off with Lucy in his claws had some rather disturbing implications.

Morgan was sitting on Nagini, who didn't dare move out of fear of being squeezed. It was a familiar scene: Dark Lord, giant snake and little girl, all happily playing together. Well, the little girl was happy, the Dark Lord was annoyed, and the giant snake was fearing for its life, but those were just some unimportant details.

* * *

Draco was close to going insane. At the moment, he was mainly held up by Snape.

Weasley and Granger were so ANNOYING!

Neville was fine, though, something that had surprised Draco.

He hadn't told them why he'd really come, who had set him on this path.

Po-, no, Harry had helped him. And he felt free now, better than he ever did as a Death Eater.

And some facts didn't add up. True, the other boy tortured, but always beside the Dark Lord, as if he was as much a prisoner as an ally. He hadn't killed anyone he knew of, and sometimes seemed to hinder his own forces as much as he helped them. And he hadn't betrayed any secrets that could change the war effort.

There was some other story there, Draco knew. But he didn't tell them. He could blow Potter's cover, ruin him, if he did so without having even an inkling what this was about.

* * *

Ginny was in her seventh year now. It was odd, being so close to finishing school. It was even odder going there without Hermione, Ron or Harry. She wondered what had happened to Harry, sometimes. He had to have a reason. He simply had to. After all, it wasn't like Harry to betray his friends.

Still, it wasn't like she didn't have anything else to worry about.

For instance, NEWTs.

She wished Hermione would be here, to nag about her studies so she'd actually not put them off all the time. She'd never imagined how much she could miss nagging. Of course, Hermione was much more occupied with snogging her brother in their last year at Hogwarts and didn't nag as much asin the past, but still.

Of course, she also didn't like feeling left out. Everyone but her and Luna was grown-up now, off to see the world.

She wasn't.

She was still stuck here, in a place where most of her friends had left, where there were so many memories, good and bad... without anyone she could discuss them with.

Just Luna for company was a bit lonely. Her room-mates didn't count. Giggling idiots.

Ginny wandered around, neither knowing or caring where her feet carried her to.

She was standing in front of the Room of Requirement now.

Someone was in there. She didn't know who. Luna maybe?

She opened the door, and went in.

There was a giant room full of... stuff. Garbage and diamonds lay beside each other, everything forgotten to the world, as it seems.

She heard an ear-piecing scream, and before she knew what she was doing, she ran to its source.

There... was Harry. With a basilisk fang in his hand, standing over a diadem that seemed to be bleeding black.

He hadn't noticed her. Not yet, anyway. She thought.

He looked up, straight into her eyes. Emerald green.

She swallowed.

"Ginny." His voice was cool, detached.

"H-harry." Hers wasn't, but she sure wished for it.

He tossed her the diadem.

"Give this to Professor Dumbledore. Say you found it, and that the person who destroyed it knew what it was. Don't mention me, whatever you do,don't mention you met me. Don't give the tiniest indication to anyone you met me. Okay?"

She didn't quite trust her voice. The last time she'd seen him, he'd cast the Cruciatus at her.

"Okay", she finally managed.

He turned to go.

"Harry? I... I have a question."

"What is it?" He turned around again.

"Why?" She didn't have to formulate it. She could see that he understood.

"Morgan."

Then, he took off.

Morgan? Who the hell was Morgan? It was a female name. Blackmail was the most likely scenario. A girl he was in love with?

She felt jealousy rising, and squashed it mercilessly. Harry deserved someone good for him, and she didn't even know the full story. She had no idea who this Morgan was, or even whether it was blackmail.

The only problem was that her curiousity had been piqued.

Legilimency wouldn't be one, luckily for her. First year had been good for something after all.

She wanted to know what was going on, and it grilled her to have no way to get more information.

* * *

Harry went through his list again.

Diary, check. Ring, check. Locket, check. Diadem, check.

Missing: Cup and Snake.

He'd destroy the snake last. Morgan liked her, although the feeling wasn't quite reciprocated. Nagini's most common line in Morgan's presence was

"Rescue me! Please! Help! Anybody! Stop squeezing so hard!"

Naturally, Morgan ignored it, opting instead for a parselmouth monologue of "Cute little snakey-snakey! Cute little snakey-snakey snake! My little snakey! Whoopee!"

Whenever Tom decided to do something, one pout of Morgan held him back. It was strange. Really, really strange.

Sometimes it felt almost as if... as if Morgan actually wanted to throttle Nagini.

He went through the door behind the Throne Room to his and Morgan's rooms.

"Morge! I'm home!"

She didn't answer.

Harry started to worry. What if someone had found Morgan? Most Death Eaters didn't know about her, and they weren't above hurting her...  
He stormed into the bedroom.

Morgan was sitting there, alone, sobbing quietly. Immediately, part of his worry was replaced with concern.

"Morge?"

She didn't react.

Harry came closer, put his arms around her. She turned to him.

"Morgan Elisabeth", he said softly, "what is it?"

She put his arms around him, still crying. His shirt was starting to get soaked.

"I-", she started.

"I saw into Gra-ampas memories..."

That wasn't good, Harry knew. Anything in there could have set Morgan off. Anything.

She didn't stop crying that evening, and Harry resolved to wait until morning to get the whole story out of her.


	10. More Horcruxes

**More Horcruxes**

The next morning, Harry felt that his side was decidedly soaked.

Morgan had cried most of the night, before finally falling asleep.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Morgan was still lying there, sleeping peacefully.

He just continued observing her.

Slowly, she began to twitch, as in a nightmare, before waking up with a scream.

He held her, when she woke up, while she sobbed in his shirt.

"Morge? Can you tell me... the whole story?"

She didn't answer immediately, but slowly, she stopped crying.

"I saw the night your mum and dad died. My grandparents."

That wasn't good.

"Grandpa killed them."

"He's killed quite a lot of people."

"I know. That isn't the scary part."

For a moment, he felt angry... then he remembered that Morgan's point of view was a bit unique. She'd seen enough people die and her grandfather kill often enough that she didn't think it scary.

"He... he had an odd feeling when he... died the first time."

Okay.

"He didn't recognize it. I did."

That didn't sound very good.

"Dad, I think... well, I'm pretty sure you're a horcrux."

Him? A horcrux? He thought about it, silently.

"It fits. It fits every single fact that I know of."

"But Dad... what are we going to do?"

"Well, I think I'll be able to find a solution. Don't you worry, Morge. We're Potters. We're luck personified."

She cracked a grin.

"Whatevery you say, Dad."

"I've got a question though: Why on Earth can you read his mind, and no one else?"

"Well, he can't keep his Occlumency shields up all the time."

He waited.

And waited.

"And?"

"Especially not when he sleeps, and I'm the only person besides him who can get into Gramps personal quarters. He likes me."

Harry laughed. It really was true - Tom loved Morgan, in his own, twisted way, and cared for her. Didn't stop him from executing his plans, but, as Morgan said "Letting feelings interfere with your plans is just plain stupid." was a very Slytherin motto.

It fit their strange family better than he ever could have thought when he was still the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

* * *

While Bella was on an assignment, and Morgan and her Grandpa were playing chess, Lucius and Harry were talking.

"It looks like Morgan is giving him a hard time."

"Well, she is clever. Seems to run in the family."

"You're not above self-promotion, are you?"

"Nah, it's in the other side of the family. Together with a certain amount of madness."

"Too true."

Silence.

"Why do you actually put up with playing with her. I mean, me and our Lord, well, we're her family, Bellatrix thinks it's fun, and you... well, why do you accept having to play a princess?"

"Don't remind me of that."

Lucius seemed to think whether he should say anything else or not.

Finally, he answered.

"You do know she's as Dark as they come?"

Harry nodded.

"She's what, three years old? She can produce darkfyre and a Crucio that doesn't leave you standing. Oh, I know the Dark Lord is practically immortal, but even he will want to retire and let someone else take over, eventually. And she's the one who is ideal for the position. Being her Uncle Lucy has long term advantages."

Harry blinked. Legilimency said he was being honest.

"You seriously think she'll be a Dark Lady one day?"

"What, do you think she's too cute or something? She has the talent, she has the ambition, and she'll grow into it. She wouldn't make that bad a Death Eater right now, discounting for size and fearsomeness, and she's just out of her nappies. She's already better than most of our new recruits at the Dark Arts."

"Why are you being so... open?"

"Because if you suspect me of any motives that can harm her, I won't stand much of a chance. Honesty sometimes is best."

"Honesty sometimes is the best method of manipulation", Harry mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"It's a quote I got from Morgan."

"That's exactly what I mean. Just out of her nappies and already as Slytherin as they come."

Silence.

They both went back to observe the chess match, lost in their own thoughts.

Tom lost that time - a pout and a puppy-dog look from his granddaughter had distracted him so he moved his queen one square less than he should have, on a field that had the unfortunate trait of being diagonally forward to one of Morgan's pawns.

Let's just say, puppy-dog looks and granddaughters do not mix well with chess-playing skills of grandfathers. In fact, the former are highly acidical and likely to dissolve the latter, while being sickeningly sweet at the same time. They're much like lemon drops that way.

* * *

Harry had been assigned to get something out of Bellatrix' vault while she and Tom had some "quality time" with Morgan a few months before her fourth birthday.

He'd refused, if it wasn't an ideal opportunity to get rid of Hufflepuff's Cup.

He'd went inot Gringotts - under Polyjuice, obviously - into the account, stabbed the Cup, got the stuff they'd wanted him to get, some Dark Arts books as presents for Morgan for her birthday, and walked out again.

Not that exciting. He was just hoping that Bellatrix and Tom hadn't had any crazy ideas for a family outing.

Diary, check, Ring, check, Locket, check, Diadem, check, Cup, check.

Missing: Himself and Snake. And of course, Wormtail had been out on an assignment and still had not come back. Harry sincerely hoped he wouldn't show up again.

* * *

They had had a crazy idea.

Their brilliant plan had been going to a reptile exhibition.

A Muggle reptile exhibition.

Morgan appeared to be in heaven. "So many snakey-snakes! Yay!"

She did know that "snakes" would have sufficed, didn't she?

"Morgan, I want you to... Morgan?!"

The girl had disappeared, as anyone could have guessed.

Hours later, a frantic Voldemort and a close-to-despair Bella were found by a very much annoyed Harry.

"You should have been back hours ago! What happened?"

"We, uh, we, we lost Morgan."

"YOU DID WHAT? Okay, I'll help you search."

Minutes later, they discovered Morgan, hissing happily back and forth with some boa constrictors and being rather put out that they had to go home.

"But why? I had so much fun, and we haven't been there that long yet... It's too early to go home! Please?"

"No. You've been here for six hours, that's enough, young Lady. Home and bed for you."


	11. Solutions, Nott and Wormtail

**Solutions, Nott and Wormtail**

Harry had found the solution.

Strangely enough, it had been when he'd just done some recreational reading, or actually, when he'd checked out when the book would be suitable for his daughter.

"The Darkest of the Darke" by Morgan le Fay had given him exactly what he needed.

"The Killing Curse is used to seperate one soul from its host body."

That single sentence had sparked the lightbulb. If he'd get AK'd, he'd live, because it would hit the Horcrux.

The only problem was that he was pretty sure that he couldn't do that to himself.

* * *

Harry felt happy.

He'd just found Wormtail, who'd been missing in action for a few months.

He was still alive, barely, but Harry was pretty sure St. Mungo's would take care of him. He had delivered him right to the front door of the Ministry, to the Aurors.

Of course, he'd make sure to Polyjuice himself before doing so, but it had been worth it.

No more Pettigrew.

He returned home, only to immediately take his position at the Dark Lord's right when another Death Eater was brought in.

* * *

Theodor Nott, jr., apparently wasn't very happy right now. Harry vaguely remembered him as the Death Eater Slytherin who'd helped him getting into this mess.

He grinned.

This would be nice to watch. And this time, he hadn't even had to manipulate anything.

The other guy was trembling, violently.

Morgan wasn't there, but Voldemort took one look at him and then whispered to Bellatrix: "Get my granddaughter."

He normally only let Morgan be seen by those that would be killed.

Good.

"My Lord... I have failed you."

"How?"

"My mission to eliminate Albus Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy has not been successful."

Even better.

Harry idly wondered why Voldemort was wasting so much time and resources on completely futile plans, and why Dumbledore responded in the exact same way.

"Well... child, if you'd do the honours?"

"Yes, Grandpa. Crucio!"

Nott screamed. Harry noted that she was getting better.

Or Nott was just a bit of a pansy.

"Please..." Harry would have found the begging more convincing if the boy hadn't led him here to be subjugated to this as well.

"Crucio!"

"AAAAAH!"

"You're getting really rather good."

"Thank you. Crucio." He could see how she stood straighter, just from these words.

"AAAAH!"

"How about trying something else today, Morgan?"

That didn't sound good. His father sense went on an alarm.

"Can you do the Imperius?"

"Okay, I'll try. Imperio!"

That went... fast.

"Hop three times on one foot!"

Nott obediently hopped three times.

"Sing 'God save the Queen'!"

Nott sang. Awfully. Harry clasped his hands over his ears. He was not allowed to tell her her suggestions were worse than horrible, he was not allowed to tell her that, he was not... oh, never mind.

"No more singing. Please."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Well, we should stop now, anyway. Bella, lead him to the dungeons! And make sure he can't talk."

"Yes, my Lord."

Nott was lead away. Alive. Pity.

* * *

"You're sure your idea will work, Dad?"

"Yes, I am. You don't have to be such a worrywart, Morge."

"And you are also quite sure that you won't be able to do it yourself."

"Yes."

"Well, Grandpa wanted to teach me the Killing Curse anyway."

He was shocked.

Utterly shocked.

"I am not going to let you become a killer!"

"Well, newsflash, Dad, Grandpa is, and he has more say than you do in this situation. You need someone who can do this, and I'm the only other person available."

"Are you sure you're just three years old?"

"Yes."


	12. Worries

**Worries**

Voldemort was playing with Morgan.

At the moment, she was on his back, the music was turned on, and he was playing a kangaroo.

Tom had never had so much fun in his life. Torture and raids didn't compete.

Originally, when Morgan had been Made, he'd given her an ability to display cuteness and be likeable to get Potter to care for her.

Now, Harry was her Dad, and he found that the charm worked on himself, too.

It made him happy. Being Morgan's Grampa became easier and easier, common sense returned to him and asked all those nasty questions: Is conquering Wizarding Britain not an awful lot of work? Why would you ever even need the damn place? And he was a half-blood himself. Sure, most Muggles were horrid, but so were most wizards, and Muggles did have some brain cells more than wizards. Their legislation proved it, their education, and the simple fact that when there would have been five armed Muggles against a hundred armed Muggles, the hundred would have shot back and done something, most likely, while five Death Eaters could easily subdue a hundred other wizards.

Jump, jump, jump.

Sometimes, he just wished he could stop the damn job of being a Dark Lord. A reason why most of his plans lately still were ridiculous, even though he knew it. He just didn't want to succeed anymore. He'd lost his drive to kill people.

He would have to talk to Harry.

* * *

Theodor Nott was in the Throne Room, again, for target practice.

Unforgivables only could be practiced sensibly on living things. Wood doesn't scream.

"Imperio! Do the chicken dance!"

Apparently, Morgan found the Imperius Curse amusing.

It had taken a lengthy explanation from Harry that yes, she should only use it with permission. Not at all at other times.

Of course, it had still been fun to see Bella try and dance a waltz with herself.

He was so caught up in his memories that he didn't notice Tom whispering into her ear.

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

Tom nodded.

No. It wouldn't be a good idea.

"I'm not sure what Dad would say..."

"I'm sure he'll be fine with it."

"Okay, if you say so."

Harry didn't know what to do.

"What is this about, you conspirators?"

Tom smirked at him.

"Nothing. Morgan, cast the spell."

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix was growing rather worried.

There were news from Snape that the Dark Lord had showed uncharacteristic behaviour lately, including an odd tendency disappear into his private quarters more and more. As if he was planning for something that could decidedly shake up the war.

With Harry now on his side, they weren't sure about they're chances of winning.

They were currently meeting, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, both nineteen years old and recently enganged, sitting beside each other. Apart from Ginny, who still wasn't out of school, the entire Weasley Family, including a sorry Percy and a recently-wedded Bill and Fleur, was there. Other attendants included former DA-members Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott (soon-to -be Longbottom), Susan Bones, Anthony Goldstein, the Patil twins, the former Gryffindor Chaser Trio, Ernie McMillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Michael Corner, even though strangely enough neither Zacharias Smith nor Marietta Edgecombe nor Cho Chang had ever shown any interest in joining.

The last year hadn't seen any deaths, apart from a few Death Eaters. It was almost as if Harry's continued presence had changed something, as many hoped beyond hope.

One of them was Dumbledore. He was sure Harry had gone Dark - hell, the boy had cast the Cruciatus! - but he still hoped for redemption. He'd see to it that Harry's terms should the war end with them winning would be good, that he'd have a chance. He just didn't know how yet.


	13. Leaving

**Leaving**

Theodor Nott was standing in the Throne Room,his eyes closed in fear.

Morgan was standing in front of him, ready to mutter whatever spell her Grandfather had decided she should.

Harry tensed. What should he do now? He had to do something...

Well, anything would be better than just staring.

Morgan spoke. Her voice was calm, eerie, barely above a whisper.

"Obliviate. Stupefy."

Nott collapsed, while Harry looked on, incredulously, not believing what he had just seen.

Had Voldemort really just ordered her to just wipe Nott's memory and not kill him?

"Bella, take him to the dungeons. Make sure he can't speak. Don't wake him up before you reach his cell."

"Yes, my Lord."

Nott was carried away, still unconscious.

"Well done, Morgan. Harry, I'll have to talk to you."

* * *

John Smith really, really hated his name. Why on Earth had his parents thought that "John" was a good first name when the last one already was "Smith"? He'd had an inferiority complex since he could remember.

No matter, he'd made something from himself. He was a primary school principal now, in Whinging's Primary School for Youngsters, and quite proud of his career.

The only problem was that he would need more teachers in the next few years.

* * *

The Order meeting was continuing, everyone giving their opinions, what should be done, what the others should think and do, and especially - what should be done with Harry Potter.

"Harry has to have a reason. I mean, he isn't the type of guy who just turns around and sticks a knife into your back. We should listen to him, at least." Ron Weasley.

"You're delusional, Weasley. He's become a cold-blooded killer!" Michael Corner.

"That statement would be more accurate if he actually had killed anybody." Hermione Granger.

"Oh, you're just agreeing with your boyfriend. Face facts, your pretty boy hero won't come back. He's gone. I know I wasn't always the nicest to him, but he's a Death Eater now. He tortures. There's no way he can be just forgiven for some flimsy excuse." Ernie McMillan.

Soon after that, the Order meeting turned less into a meeting and more into a battle of "Harry deserves at least a chance to explain" vs. "Potter's a Death Eater, you nitwits".

Crouching under the table, Albus Dumbledore idly wondered why the Order never achieved anything, and hoped he wouldn't get hit by anything that had been conjured and was now thrown by the feuding parties.

* * *

Tom and Harry were sitting in Harry's living room, while Morgan was of the firm opinion there was no better seating are than Harry. He'd made coffee, for both of them.

"So, Harry, I wanted to talk to you."

"What do you want, my Lord?"

"Stop with the 'my Lord'. Both of us know it isn't true. You don't serve me. The only one you'd serve is at the moment trying to drink your coffee."

Morgan looked up.

"Aw, Grampa!"

"Morge. That's my coffee. You're too young for coffee."

"But it tastes good."

"It isn't healthy for you, young lady. No coffee."

"Aw. Please?"

"No. How about you go read a book in the library?"

Morgan stalked away, slamming the library door.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"It's... complicated. You do know that Morgan was Made?"

"Yes. And I do know you both heightened her intelligence and her magic levels, as well as... well, I don't quite know how to put it."

Tom sipped at his coffee.

"The cutesy effect. She's likeable, even more than other children her age."

"Exactly. Why?"

Harry tried to think of scenarios that allowed for this conversation.

He couldn't find any.

"Because it didn't influence only you. Have you felt... different since you are in her presence?"

Harry thought.

"I haven't done anything stupidly reckless lately."

"Wormtail made a small mistake when Making her. We didn't think anything of it, but I'm pretty sure she has the gift to, well... to make others think things through. To give out common sense."

"And?"

"My mind... well, I've never been the most stable person, but prolongued influence of her presence, it gave me common sense again. Asking questions such as 'Why the hell am I doing this?', my mind pointing out that I've never really wanted to be a Dark Lord, and now, well, I'll need your help."  
He had never wanted to be a Dark Lord?

"Why?"

"I want to go away. Flee. Stop being a damn Dark Lord. I'm not able to fulfill the job requirements anymore, I'm not batshit insane any longer, and frankly, I'm fed up with it."

Harry didn't quite believe it.

Morgan had managed to bring the Dark Lord to a point where he wanted to give up his job?

"What do you need?"

"Call me Thomas, okay? I've always liked it better than just plain 'Tom'. I want to go into the Muggle world, and I want you and Morgan to come with me."

"Why don't you ask anybody else?"

"Because most of them are batshit insane, like I was. I think Bella's getting better, and she could come too, but I'm pretty sure no one would appreciate it."

"So... you want to quit being a Dark Lord and start living as a Muggle."

"Yes."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. You're going to help me?"

It wasn't a difficult decision. It was hell on Earth or safety for Morgan and a halfway-normal life.

"I'm in, Thomas."

Thomas. So now, he and Thomas started plotting. Going undercover - the Muggle world awaited them.

* * *

They were looking at the house. It was big, true, but it would need a lot of renovation.

Well, they would have had to put some effort into it, anyway.

Their new address: Evan's Lane 10, Whinging, on the very outskirts of the town right besides Little Whinging, called "Whinging".

They would have to come up with a name for their new home.

* * *

"So, have you thought about what you're going to want to do?", Harry asked Tom.

"I thought about redoing some of my education, you know, getting credentials, and then... well, I thought I could try a job, but I'm not sure what yet."

"Well, what did you want to do when you were little?"

"You're gonna laugh."

"Come on."

"I always wanted to be a teacher."

Harry looked at Tom.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure that's a good idea. You're brilliant with Morgan."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Well, get credentials, as well, and then... I've got no idea."

"You're gonna find something. Hey, maybe, you could teach, too."

"I don't know, maybe."

* * *

The ritual was nearly complete.

Three...

Two...

One...

And out stepped a handsome man, in his late forties, maybe.

Thomas Myrrdin Evans, he'd decided on as a name, while Harry kept his, just like Morgan hers.

Their official story was that they'd spent the last few years in a war zone, since Harry had been a child, and yes, Morgan was his daughter and his late love's, who'd been Tom's daughter. Tom's "wife" was dead as well.

They moved into their new house in the dead of the night, having it properly warded in the months before.

No one noticed their disappearance until it was too late to get them back.


	14. Left

**Left**

Ginny was rather proud of herself.

She'd just finished her last day of school, ever.

And she was pretty sure she'd not done too bad on her NEWTs. There weren't many things that could shake her undeniably good mood.

Unfortunately, any news involving Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort was one of them.

* * *

The Death Eaters were in chaos, ever since the Dark Lord and Harry Potter both had disappeared.

Only Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy knew that someone else had disappeared as well: Morgan.

They didn't know how, they didn't know why, but they knew there hadn't been a fight. It looked as if the Dark Lord had gone willingly. They couldn't see why. There was no "why".

Where were they?

The Death Eaters were slowly falling apart, which was only accelarated by the fact that three days after the Dark Lord disappeared, the Dark Marks vanished, too. Most got nosebleeds or a headache, but nothing more serious came out of its disappearance.

Lucius Malfoy knew when to call it quits. He had had a... dare he say it... good time in Morgan's presence, and now, there wasn't anything he could do any longer. There was no way to do anything but sit back and wait, trying to get his way out of this latest scramble.

He wasn't too surprised when his son got him out of the prospect of facing Azkaban, and into probation. Somehow, some things always paid off.

He'd never even told Narcissa about Morgan, but he told both of them about his suspicion... that both Potter and the Dark Lord were still alive and well, and that they'd just tried to get out of the war.

He didn't tell them why he suspected it, though. It was because every bloody time he'd been near Morgan, he'd wanted to shield her from the war, to take her to safety. It had to have been stronger for those two, her actual family. The girl was just so innocent that he'd wanted to protect her. She'd been a well-behaved child, and a prodigy. It was enough that he wished they were well, wherever they were, because they'd done the sensible thing and gotten out of there.

Even if Morgan would have made one hell of a Dark Lady.

* * *

Bellatrix knew she'd get captured again.

She wouldn't let it happen. Ever since she'd met Morgan, she'd started forming... contingency plans. If anything should happen, she'd do a ritual to change her looks, change her name, say goodbye to Cissy, take Morgan and go over to the US. Taking Morgan was unnecessary - her Lord and Morgan's Dad had done that already.

She'd leave a message, in code, for her Lord, in Morgan's and Harry's room.

She knew they might want to find her, and that was where they would look. The room was warded well enough no one else would get in there. It was safe enough to leave any message there. Code actually likely was unnecessary. Well, foresight was better than hindsight.

She'd live a happy life, elsewhere, without Rodolphus and Rabastan (Moron and Idiot, as she named them), without persecution. She'd start over, do her exams, and live.

She'd never contemplated this before meeting Morge. It had smelled too much like betrayal of her Lord.

Now, it seemed like common sense.

She'd keep her first name's abbreviation, she'd decided. Isabella White, as good a name as any.

She'd have to act like she was a mudblood, though, because 'White' wasn't a Wizarding Family Name, but... Merlin's pants, there were bigger sacrifices to be made, and more difficult decisions.

Better stuck playing a mudblood than dead, after all.

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix was in disarray.

Quite a lot of Death Eaters had been captured, others had disappeared - including Bellatrix Lestrange - and all of them reported one thing: The Dark Lord had vanished, together with Harry Potter.

What in Merlin's name had happened? There were the most different theories.

One: Voldemort and Harry had offed each other, somewhere, and their bodies had just not been found, yet. Why? The reasons ranged from "Harry wasn't really a traitor, he double-crossed him" to "They had a disagreement over something like torturing or murdering someone"

Two: Voldemort and Harry had been killed in an accident. This one had many fans as well.

Three: They were lovers and rode off into the sunset with each other. Trelawney's idea. Most people disregarded it for several reasons: Incompatible orientations, and an age gap of nearly fifty years or so.

Four: It was a trick. A very well done one, because no one could figure it out.

Five: They'd vanished somewhere for some réason, and likely wouldn't turn up anymore. Maybe they'd gone to another country or something. Why? No idea, but it might have happened.

The last one was Ginny's theory, and the one she hoped had happened.

She wanted it to be true, for Harry to live. Because most other theories didn't include that, or were... well, a bit too ridiculous.

She didn't quite believe it though. No one did, although all of his friends - Luna, Neville, Ron, Hermione, even Draco, strangely enough - wanted to believe it.

* * *

Harry and Tom - Harry had gotten his permission to use the shortened version of the name - were settling in well.

It was fun, living in peace, as Muggles.

Renovation with a precocious three-year-old was enough work for both of them, especially next to preparing for their Muggle exams.

Tom was coming along well, it felt easy to him. Even though he was still astonished at the sheer progress Muggles had made in the last fifty years.

At the moment, they were whiting the living room walls, or what would be the living room when they were finished.

Morgan had stolen his tools, taking off like the little devil she was, and Tom was running after her, having seldom felt so purely happy.

He could just live, here. No more killing, no more torture, no more death, no more "Dark Lord", no more hemkissers, no more persecution.

Just life.

* * *

**AN:**

**Thanks to all the reviewers, and extra-thanks to TheBigCat for... well, you'll see.**

* * *

**OMAKE by TheBigCat**

Morgan stared determinedly at the door that her father slept in with a trademark wicked grin. A couple of seconds later, he stepped out, in his Doctor Good costume. For the last couple of days, they had been visiting the homes of crack addicts and abusers to put a stop to their terrorizing.  
"Who's our target tonight, Daddy?" she asked innocently. Harry checked the list. "The central area, Morg," he responded. Morgan grinned again, and they jumped onto their brooms. As they zoomed off into the sky, Harry had to admit that Morgan was a fantastic broomstick rider. Maybe she had inherited it from her father. Or grandfather. He'd have to ask Tom about that sometime.  
They neared the building. Drunken shouts were coming out of it. Harry motioned for his daughter to do the honors.  
"Stupefy!"  
The building was immediately covered in unconscious drunks. With a couple of wand waves, they started to levitate them to the nearest police station, when they came face to face to someone they knew.  
"Granddad?" asked Morgan.  
The Dark Lord was dressed in a superhero outfit and cape.


	15. Four Years Later

**Four Years Later**

It had been four years since Lord Voldemort and his follower, the Death Eater Potter, had disappeared.

Morgan was seven now, it was Summer, and she was happy. She vaguely remembered some of the other Death Eaters, Uncle Lucy and Auntie Bella, but they weren't very important to her life, right now.

She was hailed as a prodigy in school. Of course, she still had a lot to learn, but a lot more just came natural to her.

Maths for instance.

She'd skipped three years worth of school, and still was mostly self-taught. Of course, she'd had a five-year head start. She could skip some more, but she didn't really want to.

After all, she didn't want to look too out of place, and she'd take her exams soon enough, anyway. She was years beyond most of her year-mates, even more than the five years she'd theoretically should be ahead of them.

Well, her Grampa was a teacher, and the best there was. Everyone at Whinging's primary liked him. He was fun, good-natured, and yet managed to have just the right dose of strict. He taught her, too.

And her dad, he was "just another guy", a stay-at-home dad, mostly. They had enough money, anyway, and Morgan knew where it came from. She knew the whole story, of the war, and of fighting, and even of the horcruxes. Her Grandpa had been rather upset when he learnt about what had happened to them, but his regret had destroyed them anyway, so it was fine.

She didn't care for the atrocities both of them had committed, the demons in their past.

Why should she? They were family, and they weren't doing anything of the sort now. They'd paid their share, in nightmares she had to calm both of them down from.

She was skipping home, hoping to get her cla- er, hands on some paper as soon as possible.

She wanted to calculate the area of one of the school roof's sides, an isosceles triangle. Her Dad had given her it's height and base. That would be more than enough.

* * *

John Smith was rather proud of his newest addition to his teaching staff. Thomas Evans was a pleasant man, a good teacher, and he knew how to talk to the kids. His son-in-law was a nice guy, if fairly young, and his granddaughter, well, the girl was absolute adorable and clever enough that she actually didn't quite belong into his school. Still, he was proud she went there, so if someone ever mentioned her name - and he had the fair feeling it would be mentioned, a lot, in the future - he could say that she went to his primary.

Only an idiot would not have guessed how proud he was of Whinging's most talented student.

* * *

Mister Evans was one of Mike's favourite teachers of all times.

It was just his bad luck he wouldn't have him anymore come September. Mister Evans was cool, way too cool to be a teacher, Mike sometimes

thought. He'd fought, in a real war, and he had once shown the class that he could still fire a gun. He was a really good shot, Mike thought.

And he could spot any pranks from miles away. He'd tried the trick with the pin on the chair in their first lesson.

Mister Evans had immediately spotted it, picked it up, looked through them carefully and then - he'd flashed a smirk at Mike.

He'd asked him to stay after class.

"Here, I believe this is yours, Mister Roberts."

"Uh, yes, sir."

He had watched him wriggle for a few seconds, then, he'd apparently decided to be merciful.

"I believe it would be best if nothing of the sort happened again, wouldn't it?"

Mister Evans' smile sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, Mr. Evans."

"By the way, I take it you have heard the news of Mrs. White during recess?"

Everyone had heard the news of Mrs. White. She'd dressed down a young student, Morgan Potter, during gym, because she couldn't keep up with class. Everyone knew Morgan Potter, resident school genuis. She was only six and had already been put into year four, still shaping up to be the best student in her class except in gym.

And Mrs. White had insulted her into tears, from everything through her parents' and grandparents' origin to her academic prowess.

It hadn't been fair, Mike thought. Morgan was a decent sort, and she tended to help anyone who asked for it. She was a bit of a teacher's pet, mainly by virtue of being too charming to resist. You couldn't really be mad at her, because she'd flash that brilliant smile or give you a puppy-dog-look and you immediately nearly toppled over. But she never betrayed anyone who played pranks, which was most important to Mike. She'd helped him out several times during the last year, hiding him when he was on the run after a prank gone awry, either from Mrs. White or another teacher. There had been that prank with the blue paint - washable, of course, Mike wasn't heartless - and Mrs. White had been hot on his toes, not quite knowing who she was pursuing, as he always went around the first corner before she came after him.

He'd run into Morgan, and she'd pushed him into a cabinet.

When Mrs. White asked where "the criminal" went, she told her "He ran right, Ma'am."

Since then, he'd had a bit of a soft spot for the girl.

"Yes, sir."

"You are quite aware, I hope, of Mrs. White's hatred for anything spicy."

It was news to him.

Mr. Evans shoved a flask into his hand. It was labeled "Chili powder".

"It would be a right shame if any of this went into Mrs. White's food."

He couldn't believe him. Was his teacher encouraging him to play pranks?

"She always eats from the plate with the green floral design."

"Why are you doing this, sir?"

"Me? I'm not doing anything at all."

His expression was one of almost comical innocence.

"If you should see my granddaughter, give her my regards, please."

"Your granddaughter?"

"Morgan."

Then, it had all been clear to Mike.

He'd smiled at his teacher, a mischievous smile that would have most teacher put him into detention.

"I will. Thank you, sir."

"What for?"

His teacher smiled right back, an almost-copy of his own.

That was the moment that Mike had decided that Mr. Evans was his favourite teacher ever.

When he turned to go, Mr. Evans called after him.

"I'll spot any pranks in my class, got that?"

"Got it!"

He had successfully pulled off the prank, and Morgan had given him this bright smile of hers the next day.

He'd tried another prank on Mr. Evans, of course.

It was the classical bucket of water, connected throug a complicated apparatus of string to turn over as soon as someone was under it.

Mr. Evans, of course, didn't even look at the ceiling, he walked right beside it, and then, had him come out to this exact spot.

Mike was soaking wet afterwards.

"Mr. Roberts, are you alright?"

It was the most perfectly innocent smile Mike had ever seen.

That moment, he was close to worshiping the ground Mr. Evans walked on. Instead, he laughed, until his ribs hurt.

Mr. Evans helped him up, and sent him out to change into something dry.

It was Mr. Evans' ability to turn any prank around that was ever played on him that made Mike respect him.

Of course, he'd also liked class. Mr. Evans had a gift for teaching. He could explain everything, always speaking slowly, but not as if you would talk to an idiot, but slowly, and clearly, with a pronounciation that made one listen and understand and remember what he said. Mike didn't know how he did it, but everyone listened to Mr. Evans. He could also threaten bullies into submission with just a glare. No one picked on any member of Mr. Evans' class, or they'd regret it. There had been some mysterious pranks on the bullies. He could always see Morgan and Mr. Evans smirking at each other when that happened.

He really regretted he wouldn't have Mr. Evans anymore come September.

* * *

Harry didn't like making shopping trips to London, but it was necessary, sometimes, just to get out of Surrey. He still didn't like the fact he was living so close to his relatives, but, well, this place was familiar enough, at least, without anyone recognizing him.

He entered a small alleyway, determined to take a shortcut.

Then, he hear a whizzling noise, very quiet.

He couldn't even turn around before he collapsed, Stupefied.

* * *

Ginny Weasley didn't know why she'd been roped by her sister-in-law to go shopping in the Muggle world for the first time.

She had resisted, she'd bawled, but Hermione hadn't relented one bit, so Ginny had joined her in her fashion escapedes.

It had turned out to be excrutiatingly difficult, navigating in the Muggle world without getting spotted, and Hermione had had the gall to laugh whenever she made one mistake too much.

Still, it was fun, their dresses looked just... gorgeous, and there was so much more variety in their world that she couldn't believe it, sometimes.

Computers were pure awesome, for instance. Especially computer games. She'd gotten Colin to ward her one against magic, then, she'd gotten some disks, and now, she was hooked on playing.

She was on her way to one of those dress shops whose names she could never quite remember, when she spotted a mop of tousled black hair in the crowd.

It looked like Harry.

On a whim, she decided to follow the man on his shopping trip.

Her feet hurt, soon, this guy was fast, he knew where he was going, and she didn't exactly think his trip would take that long.

Then, she saw his face, for just a second, while he was staring at some advertisment or something like that..

It really was Harry.

She followed him. Why was he here? What had happened? What should she do?

Especially what should she do.

Should she go to Dumbledore, say she'd seen Harry? They'd laugh at her, for having fantasies or some such nonsense.

Should she try to get him before Dumbledore? What if he didn't want to go?

In this moment, he entered a deserted alleyway.

People didn't see him.

She sneaked in after him.

What should she do? She wanted to give the decision to someone, anyone else.

She Stupefied him.

Dumbledore would know what to do. She hoped.

And she also hoped she hadn't just gotten Harry killed or something.

* * *

Thomas and Morgan grew exceedingly worried as time passed, and Harry didn't come home.

Tom was worried for the man he'd come to regard as a surrogate son, a part of his family, the first he'd ever had, while Morgan worried for her Dad.

Both of them hoped sincerely they hadn't been spotted.

They wouldn't know what to do in that case.

All of what they'd achieved these past years, it would crumble down, if they were discovered. They'd have to flee, without Harry, and Thomas didn't know if he could look himself in the mirror if they did that.

Still, he and Harry had talked, and he knew what he'd have to do.

* * *

While Harry was still absent, the court had already decided his punishment for being a Death Eater, if only for a few years.

They'd decided not to chuck him into prison, but to place him on observed probation for a year, given that he was the most likely candidate for the reason behind Voldemort's disappearence.

Observed probation meant spending one year working under a member of the Wizengamot.

One such member included Albus Dumbledore, still Hogwarts' Headmaster.

* * *

Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were sitting in a cave, still free, even though they didn't know how long they'd stay that way.

Since Bella's disappearance, they hadn't had a single idea on what to do.

They wanted revenge, on everyone, and information.

They wanted their Lord back.


	16. Found

**Found**

When Harry woke up, he found himself in Nr. 12, Grimmauld place, staring at the ceiling, surrounded by members of the Order of the Phoenix and those who probably were now, mostly former members of the DA.

Bloody hell.

At least it didn't look like they wanted to lynch him.

He recognized the faces. Ron, Hermione, whom he'd betrayed the most, as his best friends, Luna and Neville, outsiders which he'd failed, Ginny, whom he'd tortured, Professor Dumbledore, who always had trusted him to do the right thing.

He wanted to pretend to still be unconscious.

They were silent. It was like one of his nightmares all over again.

He pinched himself.

Nope, not a nightmare, unfortunately. He wanted to be home with Morgan and Thomas right now. They were probably worried sick right now, and Morgan couldn't sleep when she didn't feel safe.

Nobody talked, still.

"Uh..."

Great beginning, Harry, he chided himself.

"Hello."

Still no answer.

"You are all still able to talk, right?"

Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Hello, Harry."

Silence. All of them were still staring at him.

It was more than unnerving.

"So, why am I here?"

"You became a Death Eater."

"Yes."

They obviously hadn't expected this answer. Probably had thought he'd say something about how sorry he was. Well, he was sorry, but if he'd have to chose again, he wouldn't change a thing.

"You tortured others."

"Yes. Could you just tell me what you want from me?"

"Aren't you at least a bit repentant?"

"I didn't like quite a lot of the things I did, but I wouldn't change anything."

Not now, when he was happy, living with Tom and Morgan in their home.

"Can you tell us your reasons for changing sides?"

"No." He would not tell them about Morgan. That would mean getting her killed.

"Anything about the Dark Lord's disappearance?"

"No."

"Anything at all?"

"No."

"Very well... you're on probation. You will have to work under a member of the Wizengamot for a year to prove your not a danger to society."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you'll have to go to Azkaban."

"So, basically, I've got no choice. What if I just disappear again?"

"We'll find you."

Harry snorted.

"And how are you going to do that? You can either keep me here, in prison, or let me go."

"Ah, that's the beauty. Look at your wrist."

There was a band there. Harry tried to touch it with his other hand, and screamed.

"What the hell is this?"

"It will make sure you'll come. If you don't, the pain will get worse and worse."

He fidled his wand out from his back pocket and checked it for tracking spells.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that there weren't any.

"Is there any reason why your first action would be checking for tracking spells?"

"Nothing I'm gonna tell you."

"You don't trust us."

"I don't. Well, there are people here I do trust, but not you."

Specifically, he trusted Ron and Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Remus. He was pretty sure he trusted Malfoy - well, both Malfoys - and Snape more than Dumbledore.

"Why?"

Because he was the worst educator he knew? Because he damned people before taking a good, long look, like he did with Tom, or decided they should be heroes, like himself, or good people to grow up with, like the Dursleys?

Who ever gave him the right to play with other people's lives?

"That's a long story."

"You listened to Lord Voldemort."

"Of course. And to common sense, as well. Technically, I didn't so much as listen to him, but look at his memories. I'm rather disappointed, Professor. You absolutely had to frighten an eleven-year-old into submission, didn't you?"

Dumbledore was speechless.

"And that's a good end for this conversation. Now, there are some people I actually wanted to talk to here. May I?"

Dumbledore needed a few seconds to talk again.

"Of course. All at the same time, or one after the other?"

"All of them. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny and Remus."

* * *

They were sitting in a room, Harry had charmed the door and put up silencing wards. He wanted to make sure no one snooped.

They sat in silence.

"So... any news?"

"Why did you join Voldemort?"

He wanted to answer, but he wasn't sure what they'd do, how they'd react.

"That's a long story and... well, it's not entirely mine to tell."

They looked at him, partially outraged, partially thinking him a traitor, likely.

Ginny locked eyes with him.

"You're protecting someone, aren't you?"

He hesitated. She remembered their conversation in the Room of Requirement, it seemed.

"Yes."

"More than one person?"

He nodded.

"Two."

"Did they do anything criminal?"

"One of them."

"Friends?"

"Family." They were his family, both Morgan and Tom.

"I... guess you can't really tell any details without betraying them?"

"Guessed correctly."

"So, how's your life now?" Ginny, it seemed, had taken the lead.

"Well, the three of us have gone Muggle, so, yeah, rather normal, I guess. I don't have a job, but I've been working on getting good enough to take University courses, and one of us does have a job. He's really, really good at it, something which I'd never have expected, but, well, you never really know."

"What does he do?"

"He's a teacher. Best I've ever met. A lot like McGonagall in class, from what the principal says."

"And the other person?"

"I can't tell you, sorry. So, what's up with you guys?"

"May I introduce? Hermione Jane Granger-Weasley."

"Let me guess. She married Ron."

Ginny nodded, grinning.

"It was so obvious. I mean, even a blind man could have seen it after the Yule Ball fiasco."

Ron and Hermione's jaws slacked.

"You knew?"

"Yep. I also already know that Tonks is Mrs. Lupin now."

"So, you haven't heard of Teddy?"

"Your son?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me. Tell me everything. Weddings, new kids, everything."

And so, Harry listened to news that were normal, happy, and without any mention of Death Eaters or Dark Lords. He listened to the tale of Bill and Fleur's wedding, how Victoire was born and that Ginny and Hermione had held her sixth and seventh, respectively, how Teddy and Victoire had made their first steps, what their first words were, that Teddy was Ron's godson and that he liked to paint with finger crayons and to watch little Victoire, that Ron and Hermione's wedding had been beautiful and decorated with roses upon roses and that they'd decided that they wanted to name any girls they had Rose, that all of them had been to Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass' wedding and that Draco had been getting along rather well with all of them lately, that Neville was dating Hannah Abbott right now and they were getting along fabulously, that Luna had made a few voyages, and other news that fell under the category "family".

Then, there was stuff that was much more interesting for him.

There were three new teachers at Hogwarts: Draco Malfoy, History of Magic - finally someone who might get students interested in the subject.  
Neville Longbottom, who'd start as the Herbology teacher this year.

And of course, Ginny Weasley, Defense against the Dark Arts.

It didn't surprise Harry she'd been holding the position for more than a year now. After the Dark Mark was lifted, Tom had also removed the curse from the position. He was a teacher now, and happy where he was. Being petty didn't help him.

"Hey, if you're Professors, that means I'll work right beside you."

"Yeah, you will."

Ginny and Neville grinned at him.

He grinned back.

He had the sudden feeling this wouldn't be all that bad.


	17. Going to Hogwarts

**Going to Hogwarts**

When he finally got home, Tom and Morgan were beyond worried.

"You're back."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"They found me, I kept both of you secrect."

"So?"

"If I don't spend a year at Hogwarts, I'll have a problem."

"I see."

Tom, Morgan and he himself sat down in the living room, and Harry told them everything he knew.

"Hogwarts assistant caretaker, right?"

"Yeah."

"You should take Morgan with you."

"WHAT?" Harry couldn't believe his ears.

"You didn't just say I should take Morgan with me, did you?"

He really, really hoped he hadn't heard correctly.

"That would be insane!"

"Hear me out. It won't be that much of a problem. Your trunk has some enlarged rooms, she can stay there, and, well... I don't think Morgan would like being stuck here without you, Harry."

"That's way too dangerous and crazy!"

"And I'm pretty sure Morgan would like to see the Hogwarts library."

"Library?" Morgan perked up.

"Do you want to see Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Then it's decided."

"That's insane!"

"It is. Have I ever mentioned that I am?"

"Yes. Too often. It's a convenient excuse, Tom."

"I know. But Morgan needs to see something of the Wizarding World. She can't grow up totally Muggle. And she won't need this next year, anyway. We can homeschool her for that long, officially."

"That's..."

"It's better than Morgan being stuck here. And besides, she wants to go there, I'm pretty sure."

"Yes!"

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

"So you are."

"Okay. But Morgan, you'll have to be careful, do you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah I do! I'll be way careful, Dad!"

* * *

And so, Harry entered the Hogwarts Express on the first of September with an enlarged and enchanted trunk.

He charmed and warded his compartment, and opened the trunk.

"Hey, Morge, you can come out."

"So this is the Hogwarts Express."

"Yes."

"This is awesome. We're going to Hogwarts! Hoggy-Warty Hogwarts!"

He smiled despite himself.

"You do know I only agreed to this because you and your Grandpa 'convinced' me?"

"Yeah? So? We're going to Hogwarts! The real Hogwarts! I'll see the Hogwarts Library!"

"That's the part you're most excited about, aren't you."

"What else should I be?"

It wasn't said impatiently, or derisively, just like it was the most obvious thing in the world for her.

She really, really loved her books.

He gave her one of his potions books that she nearly ripped out of his hand. He had the slight feeling she'd start drooling, until she opened it to devour it.

She didn't read books, she devoured them. There wasn't any other term for it. She read carefully, yet so fast he could never hope to match her. It was strange, seeing her read, so lost in the pages that nothing and no one could get her out of their world of black and white, of ink and paper.

He observed her for a few minutes, then turned to his own book.

Their voyage passed in companiable silence.

When there was the message through the speakers: "We'll arrive in five minutes." Morgan quickly climbed into the trunk again, while Harry hoped someone would help him get to the castle.

Removing the warding didn't take him to long. Stepping outside with his featherlight trunk, he joined the first-years in their boats, talking excitedly about what house they'd like to be in. Harry landed in a boat with three young boys, one with blonde, one with brown, and one with black hair.

"So, which houses do you want to be in?", asked black hair.

"Gryffindor! Where dwell the brave of heart!", said blonde and brown hair in unison.

"My Dad's a Gryffindor!", said brown hair proudly.

"I'm Muggleborn, but I heard Gryffindor was the best, I mean, Dumbledore was in there, and the Weasleys...", said blonde hair.

"Oh...", was black hair's answer.

"Most of my family was Slytherin..."

"Dad's always complaining about the slimy Slytherins, they are evil!"

Harry saw black hair squirm, and chose to intervene.

"You know, generalizations like that are pretty stupid."

"What, were you a slimy snake? They're all Death Eaters!", asked brown hair.

"No, and snakes aren't slimy. I was in Gryffindor, for your information, and I know of quite a few Death Eaters that weren't Slytherin, and quite a few Slytherins that weren't Death Eaters, or switched sides from the Death Eaters. For example Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy."

"They were Slytherins?"

"Yes. Alastor Moody was one as well. In contrast, Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor who betrayed his friends to the Dark Lord."

"Oh! I've heard of him... You're sure he wasn't Slytherin?"

"Yes. One-hundred-percent sure. Saying all Slytherins are Death Eaters and evil is pretty much the most stupid thing you can do. What are your names, by the way?"

"Marcus Gamp." Black Hair.

"James Bell." Brown Hair.

"Mike Roberts." Blonde Hair.

"Bell? Any relation to Katie Bell?"

"My aunt's called Katie, why?"

"She was in the year above me."

"Really? Who're you?"

"You'll find out. I'm the assistant caretaker this year."

"Cool."

That was when the first years got their first view of Hogwarts.

It was still as beautiful as Harry remembered it.

He was rather proud that they'd put in a two way-mirror on the trunk so Morgan got a view as well.

* * *

They were received by Professor McGonagall. After she had intimidated the first years good and proper, she turned to Harry.

"Ah, Harry, here you are. Come with me and seat yourself at the High Table."

"Of course, Professor."

He followed her and sat down on the chair that was shown to him, between Ginny and Draco.

* * *

**AN: Again, thanks to every single reviewer, and again, extra-thanks to TheBigCat, for yet another OMAKE.**

**OMAKE by TheBigCat**

Morgan stared at her grandad. Harry did too.  
"Uh?" He said.  
"Um," Morgan added.  
"Er," Harry finished.  
"What the hell?" They both said together, after which Harry slapped his daughter gently for her language.  
The Dark Lord looked up innocently from where he was on the floor.  
'Yes,' he said innocently. The effect was ruined when one noticed that he was clutching My Little Pony accesories.  
"Pinkie Pie is my favorite," he explained somewhat randomly.  
He blushed. "I got hooked on them when I saw Morge playing with them..."  
Morga flopped down to play with her grandad.


	18. Feast and Evening

**Feast and Evening**

Dumbledore said his usual introductory speech, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, yawn, he was hungry.

The three boys were all sorted into the houses they had wanted to be in.

Harry didn't listen until his own name fell.

"And here, may I introduce, Harry James Potter, who will be staying here as the assistant caretaker. And now, dig in!"

Finally.  
He started eating, not really caring about the whispers around him. Whispers of how he either was a loyal Death Eater or the murderer of the Dark Lord.

Neither had any grounding in reality.

He knew Morgan didn't have that much food in there and anticipated he would have to raid the kitchen before he went to bed.

His trunk was still right beside him. He'd carry it to his office on his own.

When the feast was finished, he stood up, waiting expectantly.

"Harry, I'll show you your rooms."

Ginny.

Now that he was here and knew he'd have to spend time near her, he was hit with memories with a vengeance.

He'd crucio'd her. He could feel the guilt crushing him, nearly suffocating him.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

She looked at him, concerned.

He smiled at her, forced and tense.

"Yeah, I am."

"Sure, you sound really well. C'mon!"

She gestured for him to follow and took off.

He lifted his trunk and went after her.

"You know, your office is really close to mine, same corridor, actually. We're gonna be neighbours this year."

He did not need that. Feeling guilty all the time would not help him. He still liked her, though. Still sometimes thought about could-have-beens. If he hadn't been brought before the Dark Lord, things might have turned out differently.

He wouldn't have Morgan then, though.

"You know, you could look at least a little cheerier at the news. Well, I guess you'd stop anyway as soon as seeing your new quarters."

"Why?"

"It's a tradition to let the staff do the decorating themselves."

* * *

After Ginny bid him goodbye, he entered his office, a small, dark, oppressive room without any furniture, then he went on to the door leading to his quarters.

Another two small, dark, oppressive rooms, one of them containing a toilet and a shower, the other, nothing beyond a small bed.

He sat down his trunk and let Morgan out.

"Wow. Nice place."

"We'll decorate it tomorrow."

"Okay, Dad. When will we write Grandpa?"

"At the end of the week, when we have something to tell."

"Alright, though I knew a few things I could tell him!"

"Like?"

"Like that Mike Roberts is here, duh."

"Mike Roberts? Wasn't that one of his favourite students in his class?"

"Yeah, that Mike Roberts."

"Blonde hair from the boat and the guy who tried to play the old pin-on-a-chair prank on Tom are one and the same?"

"YES!"

"D'you think Hogwarts will still be standing after he's through with it?"

"Mike isn't that bad."

"No, but close."

"And he mainly choses deserving targets."

"Too true."

He smiled as he remembered the descriptions of what happened to Mrs. White. Everything from blue paint to being soaked wet to her hair getting coloured green temporarily. Mike would be in prankster's heaven here.

* * *

Mike was indeed close to heaven after a good description of all the pranking supplies one could get at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. He so wished to visit Mr. Evans with some of these and play some pranks on him.

Unfortunately, the Statute of Secrecy was something that would not help him in this case. He couldn't play any pranks on Mr. Evans with Wizarding pranking supplies.

His elation faded when he remembered he wouldn't have class with Mr. Evans anymore. No teacher who'd encourage him subtly to play a prank whenever someone was being a hell of a jerk.

And Mr. Potter had seemed so familiar for some reason.

He shared Morgan's surname, he realized.

"What do you know about Harry Potter?", he asked his dorm mates.

He couldn't quite believe the story he heard, and the rumours floating everywhere. But he wanted to know more.

His curiosity was soaring, and he decided to learn the truth. There were so many things that could have happened, and he wanted to know.

* * *

Rabastan and Rodolphus, still in hiding, were playing exploding snap.

"Rolph, I heard news today. Potter's at Hogwarts."

Both of them were silent. They knew Potter knew something about their Lord's disappearance.

"Now, should we go after him?"

The question went unanswered as they hadn't paid any attention to their cards, which promptly exploded.

They decided to leave any operations until after their eyebrows had grown back.


	19. First Days

**First Days**

His first day at Hogwarts was spent redecorating his quarters and discovering that Morgan had thought it a good idea to bring her pet snake along, a small basilisk she'd named Bessie. Bessie the basilisk was luckily as of yet too young to petrify anyone.

Harry just thought he should pray to whatever entity had prevented her from bringing Nagini along as well.

After a meal of toast and salami with coffee/milk for Harry and Morgan and a few mice for Bessie, they'd started working.

Which meant, of course, that they'd started with arguing what they actually wanted. Both of them agreed on no pink in the space of ten seconds, it took that long mainly because of Morgan's repeated words of "I hate pink, I hate pink, I hate pink!"

Morgan was for black and silver, with snake motifs to honour their parseltongue.

Harry wanted either Gryffindor colours, or, if that wasn't possible, something that wasn't totally oppressive.

They ended up with choosing ebony furniture with silver decorations (at Morgan's insistence, she didn't like any of the other woods) and the rooms coloured in light blues and greens. Harry found it to not look that bad - it wasn't totally oppressive, in fact, it felt calming to him.

His office was done much the same, and he started feeling at home.

* * *

The second day wasn't too exciting either.

He'd helped Filch cleaning the place, through use of many, many household spells, and had taken as many books out of the library as he could, so Morgan had something to do.

He also had nearly gotten a heart attack when she casually pulled a wand out of her pocket and cast a lumos for better reading light.

"Morgan, where did you get that wand from?"

"Yew, phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches. What do you think, Dad?"

"Tom gave you his wand."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I asked him nicely, and he wanted me to be able to defend myself."

Harry opened his mouth, and closed it again.

It was true that Morgan without a wand, alone, against an enemy, was a prospect that made him shiver.

Morgan with a wand did so as well. He was worried for any poor sod that might cross her, and, well, in a way, for her innocence. He didn't want her to become a murderer. It was when Morgan did magic that he was reminded she wasn't a normal child. He'd never asked Tom, but he'd obviously made sure she hade a large magical core. In fact, he was pretty sure it wasn't just large, but gigantic. She could cast the Unforgivables - he didn't know about the Killing Curse, and hoped neither of them ever would need to - and pretty much every spell learnt in first, second or third year. Most of them were more difficult to learn than the Unforgivables, which only required the correct mindset of wanting to do something. To cast a successful Cruciatus, one had to want to hurt the other person, to cast an Imperius, one had to want to control them. A strong enough will was all this took to achieve, and Morgan had that in spades. She also had a talent for anything considered Dark, and she could be downright vicious if she wanted to be.

She had gotten the first from her grandparents, and the second she shared with everyone in her family.

"I guess it's for the best."

She looked at him, having expected something else.

"You're not angry? Grandpa thought you'd be."

"Well, if anyone tries to hurt you, I'll have to worry for them now instead of for you. That's a major improvement. I'll worry much, much less."

She grinned at him.

"How much less?"

"A billion million trillion bajillion times less, of course. Because I love you a bill-" he poked her, "ion, mill-", poke, "ion, trill-ion ba-jill-ion times more."

"I love you, too, Dad. A billion million trillion bajillion times more than anyone else in the whole wide world except Grandpa."

She hugged him, fiercely.

"And how much do you love Grandpa?"

"Just the same as you... I can play awesome pranks with Grandpa."

Yes, they'd told him about that.

Morgan took her books again, and dug herself into the words.

A few moments later, she turned the first page.

She looked so blissful when she read, like there was nothing she desired more.

Harry wondered whether she'd be a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw when the time came.

He sort of hoped she'd wind up in Gryffindor, but he wasn't really able to say it was likely. True, she was brave. She also was pragmatical, even if she knew loyalty, and more interested in learning than in heroics. She liked learning for learning's sake, but she also wanted to change things. She had ambitions that went way beyond what most people wanted.

In other terms, he'd bet for Slytherin, except in the case she made a Ravenclaw friend at some point, someone she was loyal enough to to follow them.

It wasn't exactly likely.

He took a book for himself, and started reading.

* * *

It was the third day that exciting things started to happen.

After Harry took breakfast in his quarters, he literally ran into Ginny, who was just talking to Draco and Neville.

He'd been running for running's sake, because he'd wanted to enjoy himself, to feel free, again, and then, he turned around a corner, and boom, crashed into Ginny.

Talk about luck.

Whether good or bad he had yet to determine.

At the moment, he was leaning towards bad.

They'd both crashed into the ground, resulting on him lying on top of her in a rather awkward position. And just when he had sort of started coming to terms with the Cruciatus-episode.

Draco was catcalling.

Harry got up, blushing, as fast as he could, and held his hand out for Ginny.

She took it and got up. Her cheeks were tinted red.

"Uh, hello."

Brilliant, Potter. Way brilliant.

"Hi."

"So, Potter, what have you been up to in these past years?"

He turned to Draco, taking his eyes off Ginny.

"Nothing much."

"Oh, really? What does that include?"

Living as a stay-at-home-dad in the Muggle world together with an ex-Dark Lord and a "creature" created by a Dark Ritual.

"Taking Muggle examinations, reading Shakespeare, learning how to calculate the area of a triangle with a calculator when given two sides and the enclosed angle, stuff like that."

"How do you calculate that whole area-thingy?", Neville asked.

"I'm pretty sure it was one side multiplied by the other multiplied by the cosinus of the enclosed angle. Why?"

"Just to see you can back up your claims." It was Draco who had answered.

"Of course I can. I can even show you my reports."

"If you were in the Muggle world, you probably know how to work computers."

Why on Earth did Ginny want to know that?

"Naturally."

"Ever played the Settlers IV?"

He smiled.

"Of course."

Tom loved that game. It had been really hard to get him away from his spot glued to the computer back in Febrary. A few days later, he had to drag both of his family members away regulary, because Tom had shown Morgan how to play.

Of course, it hadn't taken long until he was hooked himself.

"D'you think you could help me with the third Mayan mission? I'm stuck there."

"I think I can, I've already played it. But I thought electronics don't work in the castle?"

"Do you remember Colin Creevey? He is an Unspeakable now. He found a way around that, and enchanted my computer."

Harry started to grin.

"So, when can I start?"

A few minutes later, Harry was sitting in Ginny's quarters, in her own living room, and playing computer.

* * *

While Harry was playing, Ginny was teaching.

Her thoughts kept drifting away from her lesson and to Harry. She sincerely hoped he won the damn mission, because she wanted to ask him what the trick was so she could try it herself, later.

Of course, she also couldn't concentrate because she kept wondering what was happening to Harry. One minute he was normal, acting as if nothing had happened, then, he acted as if he was uncomfortable or guilty, and when asked about his private life, what the hell had happened in the years where he hadn't been there, he closed off. If he was asked how his living conditions where, he closed off. He still kept parts of his life secret from them, likely the most important parts.

And she still had not even the faintest idea what his words in the Room of Requirement had meant.

Who was Morgan?

Again, she squashed down jealousy. She was getting much too much experience with it. She told herself again and again, she did not know who Morgan was, whether she actually was his girlfriend or something, and even if she was, she had absolutely no right to be jealous.

It was a testament to how often she'd done this that she felt herself relax and went on with the lesson as if nothing had happened, telling her Gryffindor and Slytherin first years to pair up, and, as they were an uneven number, forming one group of three, as well.

With a bit of astonishment she noted that the trio consisted of Katie's nephew, James, a Muggleborn whose name started with R, Roberts, maybe, both Gryffindors, and a Slytherin from one of those pure-blood families. She was pretty sure his uncle had been a Death Eater.

And they'd immediately grouped together and were behaving very much like best friends or something.

It wasn't something she'd ever seen before. She hoped they continued like this, and that the others were drawn in. She would try to support this, as best as she could. She was pretty much fed up with the House rivalry by now, anyway.

When they performed their given spells without a fault, she awarded "Each of your houses ten points, and ten extra for Mr. Gamp for helping the other two!"

The boys grinned at each other.

* * *

After that lesson was over, she went into her quarters.

Harry was sitting on the chair, snoring slightly.

"Aguamenti."

He immediately woke up and gasped for air.

"Mission complete. Why am I soaking wet?"

She grinned at him.

"Well, I had to wake you up, didn't I?"

"Too true."

With a wave of his wand, he dried himself.

"So, what now?"

"How about dinner?"

"Okay, I'll accompany you."

* * *

On the way to the Great Hall, he told her about the mission. In detail.

Most were rather astonished when they saw him, he hadn't bothered to show up the last two days.

When Mike Roberts waved to him, he waved back.

He took the seat next to Ginny, and tried to forget about the guilt creeping in, so he could enjoy eating and sitting next to a friend.

* * *

Meanwhile, Morgan had become bored. She'd read in her trunk-room, then, she'd decided she wanted to do something.

She'd taken her Dad's Invisibility Cloak, and the Marauder's Map.

Then, she'd sneaked outside, to look for her Dad.

She found him in the Great Hall, sitting besides - according to the Map - Ginny Weasley.

Wasn't that a girl he'd had a crush on once?

He was animatedly talking to the girl, no, woman, sitting beside him, concentrating on her almost completely.

She seemed nice, a friendly person, and she was just laughing at one of Dad's jokes.

Slowly, a grin crept across Morgan's face. It was fun, watching their interaction, and an idea was coming to her.

Then, she sneaked out again, back to their quarters, and left a note for her Dad.

She wanted to spend some time in the library.

* * *

When Harry came to his quarters after dinner, there was no Morgan there.

Just a note, with one word.

Library.

He smiled to himself.

It would have been expected. If there was one thing Morgan had really looked forward to, it had been exploring the great, famous Hogwarts library.

He didn't bother to go looking for her. Morgan would be careful, and she loved reading too much for him to go find her.

He took a Wakefullness Potion and started heading for his rounds.

* * *

Around eleven o'clock, he ran into a boy outside of Gryffindor Tower.

"Mike Roberts? What are you doing here?"

"Uh, see, I sort of wanted to..."

"... play a prank on someone?"

"Yes... uh... no... I was just locked out of the portrait hole, see..."

"Okay, what did you want to do?"

"I sort of wanted to sneak to the owlery. There's the Magical to Muggle Mail delivery, see, and I wanted to send a letter without my dorm mates seeing anything."

"Oh. Well, I guess, in that case, I'm coming with you."

"Why?"

"Because I sincerely doubt any teacher would say anything if you're with the caretaker assistant."

"That's nice of you."

They went in the direction of the owlery.

After Mike had sent his letter, Harry asked him a question.

"By the way, why didn't you want your dorm mates to see you? I mean, it can't be that embarassing to send a letter to your parents, can it?"

"Well, I sort of want to send my old teacher a letter."

"Old teacher?"

"Mr. Evans, from Whinging Primary."

Harry stared at him.

"Thomas Evans? Granddaughter Morgan?"

"Yeah. You know them, sir?"

"Yes, yes I do. He's a friend of mine."

"That's a funny coincidence."

"Small world. Come on, I'll escort you back."

On their way, they ran into Filch. Before the old man could say anything, Harry said: "Sir, he's with me."

"Oh, go on then", Harry's superior grumbled.

After Mike entered his common room and said goodbye, Harry spent another few hours patrolling before entering his quarters again, collapsing on the bed beside Morgan.

* * *

**AN: Again, thanks to every single reviewer, and, again, extra-thanks to TheBigCat for yet another OMAKE. I hope you enjoy it, though you should know "Pinky and the Brain" first.**

**OMAKE by TheBigCat**

Inside Morgan's room, a cage sat. Inside this cage sat two mice. One was skinny and had goofy teeth and the other had an abnormally big head. They sat and squeaked to each other for a moment, then one produced a metal welder and cut its way out of the cage. The two mice crept out into the Dark Lord's mansion...  
Elsewhere in the mansion, a young man and a four year old crept out in much the same way.  
"What shall we do tonight, Daddy?"  
"The same thing we do every night, Morgan. Try to build a better mousetrap!"


	20. Mike and Morgan

**Mike and Morgan**

Hogwarts was fun, Morgan found.

They'd been her for a little more than two weeks, and she'd written two letters to her Grandpa, same as her father.

One topic she'd gently tried to address with her Grandpa had been her lack of a mother. She wanted a mother, and she'd find one for herself. A wife for her Dad.

Now she just had to get him to find one.

She had an idea already.

But now, she should really, really sneak to her Dad's quarters again.

She heard some running.

As Bella said: Bloody damn hell.

* * *

On this third Monday in Hogwarts, Mike was pursued by Filch after leaving him a "present" in form of a dungbomb, when suddenly, someone pulled him behind a tapestry after he went round a corner.

He didn't quite believe who he saw there.

"Morgan?"

"Yep."

"How on Earth did you come here?"

"Uh... my Dad's working here, and Gramps got him to agree to take him with me."

"Gramps... you do mean Mr. Evans?"

"Yeah."

Then, Filch pulled away the tapestry.

"Lumos!", she shouted, and suddenly, there was bright light.

Before Mike could see again, Morgan was already running and tearing him with him.

"Come on! I'm not supposed to be here!"

"You mean, behind the tapestry?"

"No, at Hogwarts. Well, technically, I'm not quite supposed to exist, and most people don't know about it, but, well, I didn't chose how I was born. Or not quite born, in my case."

Mike tried to make head and tails of that.

"Does the Wizarding World have something against C-section?"

"No. I should go find my Dad now. Meet me tonight, say, eleven, outside Gryff's Common Room?"

"Okay. What for?"

Morgan grinned.

"Some pranking."

She held out her hand.

He shook it.

"Deal."

* * *

That night, Mike and Morgan met outside the Gryffindor Common Room.

"So, who did you want to prank?"

"How about Filch?"

"Any ideas?"

"Yes."

With a few flicks of Morgan's wand, they'd broken into his office, then, into his personal quarters.

She let Mike have the honours of applying the time-delayed hair growth potion.

* * *

The next day at Hogwarts, Harry nearly spit out his pumpkin juice when he looked at Filch near the end of breakfast.

He'd grown an enormous, long, white beard, together with hair past the waist.

It looked entirely ridiculous on him.

Harry swallowed.

"What is it, why are you staring at me?"

Ginny turned to Filch, and Harry, unluckily, wasn't as fortunate as Filch in regard to spit takes.

She got pumpkin juice all over him.

"So-orry Harry, it's just..."

She started laughing uncontrollably.

Others soon turned to look what she was laughing at.

It didn't take long before everyone was laughing at the clueless Filch, who huffed and puffed and went to his quarters to cut his hair.

When the laughter died down, Ginny looked at Harry.

"Uh... Harry..."

"Yes?"

"You're wet. I think you should go change... uh... sorry."

"Doesn't matter. Breakfast's over anyway."

"Can I come with you? I'll need your help with something."

"Sure."

And so, Ginny and Harry went outside, to Harry's quarters.

Ginny agreed to wait out there.

Inside, Harry nearly had a heart attack.

Morgan was standing there, her hand encased in fire. In fiendfyre.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm learning how to control fiendfyre perfectly, why?"

"Morgan, if you make a single mistake while doing that, you can lose your hand."

"I know, that's what makes it a challenge."

"How often have you down this?"

"A few times. Sheesh, Dad, it's not like I can't do this. I've been working on the Dark Arts since before I was out of my nappies."

"That doesn't mean you should risk your life."

"Trust me, Dad. I can do this. It's just fiendfyre, nothing dangerous."

"You do know fiendfyre is one of the most dangerous things in the Wizarding World?"

"Yes. Imagine anyone trying to attack me while I'm holding a wand."

Morgan grinned at him, almost eager to have someone attack.

"Let me guess. There wouldn't even be ashes left."

"Exactly. Same if anyone tried to hurt you or Grandpa."

Harry realized with a sudden force that if Morgan would have any interest in conquering the Wizarding World, she likely could have done so before she was of age. Powerful? Check. Clever? Check. Absolutely ruthless against perceived enemies? Check.

And the strange thing was, he would bow before her, and help her, because she was his own flesh and blood, and he wouldn't leave her to do anything alone.

He just could hope she never wandered down that path, or that no fool would give her a reason to do so.

"Morgan, I've got to change."

"Okay, Dad. What happened?"

"Ginny laughed and spit Pumpkin juice all over me."

"Let me guess. Mr. Filch experienced a sudden hairgrowth?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That was your idea."

"Mine and Mike's."

"He knows you're here."

"Well, duh, yeah, he does since yesterday. I couldn't let him get caught by Filch."

Harry sighed.

"At least he won't tell anyone you're here, if what you and Tom told me are any indication of his behaviour."

"Yep. And he was a pretty good partner in crime."

Harry climbed into the trunk and changed.

"Bye, Morgan. Have fun."

"Okay, Dad."

She started playing with fire again.

Harry smiled weakly, and went out. Ginny was still waiting for him.

"Hey, what took you so long?"

"Long story. Now, you need help?"

"Yeah, do you know where the boggarts are? I need one for my third years."

"Hang on, I think I saw one in the dungeons..."

They went down there.

* * *

In the dungeons, it didn't take long for Harry to find the boggart and give him to Ginny.

"Here."

"Thanks, Harry."

"Mr. Potter and Professor Weasley... what a touching scene."

The Bat of the Dungeons, also known as Snape, Snape, Severus Snape, had made an appearance.

"Good morning, Professor Snape." It wouldn't do to forget your manners.

"Potter, I wanted to talk to you."

An icy shiver went down Harry's spine.

"What about?"

"There were... rumours in the Death Eater ranks. Of something very important to the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy sometimes gloated that even after his capture and eventual freedom, he was one of the most trusted in the Dark Lord's service... and Bellatrix Lestrange always shushed him when he was nearby, telling him that this secret was nothing that should be gloated about... I wonder if you know anything."

"Don't poke your nose in other people's business, Professor Snape."

"So you know something. Did whatever that treasure was have any connection to the Dark Lord's disappearance?"

"There is no more Dark Lord."

It wasn't a lie. There was no Dark Lord anymore, just Tom.

"He's dead?"

"Think whatever you want to. Just let this matter rest."

"You know something. Look, if there's a strong weapon out there that the Dark Lord had access to..."

Weapon? Morgan wasn't a weapon.

"Severus Snape, if you don't let this matter rest right now, I will torture you. I may not have been a voluntary Death Eater, but I am still capable of quite a lot of curses."

"Look, Potter, this is impo..."

"Petrificus Totalus."

Harry hadn't cast the spell.

Ginny had.

"Finite Incantatem. Severus, if Harry doesn't want to tell you anything, he doesn't want to tell you anything. This is none. Of. Your. Business."

Snape hurried away, glancing at Ginny incredulously.

"Thank you."

"No thanks needed."

She smiled at him. It looked a little forced. Then, she spelled the box to fly and went on her way.

"Bye, Harry."

"Bye."

* * *

Ginny had an inkling what that thing important to the Dark Lord was. It wasn't a thing. It was a person. That Morgan.

Someone Harry was protective of.

And she wanted to know the damn full story, even though she knew Harry would rather torture her - again - or himself than tell her.


	21. Flaming Dragon

**Flaming Dragon**

November was starting, and there were whispers everywhere about some new pranksters, Fred and George style, who were quickly making the school a much less safe place.

Their favourite targets were Filch, Snape, and, strangely enough, Professor Dumbledore, who was constantly addressed as "Mr. Twinkles".

Ginny was sitting in the Great Hall, and hoping nothing would happen today. Nice and quiet breakfast, without her bursting out laughing, because somebody seemed dead set on making sure she always sprayed Harry full of Pumpkin Juice.

It had happened five times already, and it was dead embarassing.

* * *

Morgan waited for the right time to implement her plan. The perfect moment always was when breakfast was almost over, and Ginny Weasley was looking at her Dad, with her mouth full of pumpkin juice, because then she'd accompany her Dad to their quarters, and they'd talk, about this and that, and blush a lot.

She didn't quite know how romance between grown-ups worked, but she thought it was a good start.

She was pretty sure her Dad knew or suspected about her timing, but until now, he hadn't complained. In fact, he seemed pretty happy about walking besides Ginny.

Now, about her plan...

* * *

Nothing had happened so far, when suddenly, Ginny saw a gigantic dragon made out of fire.

This time, however, she managed not to make a spit take and spray pumpkin juice all over Harry.

Instead, she swallowed, her eyes fixed on the dragon.

It was giant, and on his surface she could see miniature chimeras and serpents forming, while it flew over her and the other people sitting in the Hall.  
Fiendfyre. Someone with enough control over fiendfyre to give it such a well-defined form was using it to play a prank.

It nearly exploded her mind.

Fiendfyre was dark, evil and hard to control. To use it for a prank, a wizard had to retain his or her humanity while also being as deeply entrenched into the Dark as possible, and possess remarkable talent and skill in the Dark Arts.

It wasn't something she would have believed possible.

The dragon roared, and shot a flame at Dumbledore.

Okay, so this wasn't a prank.

She pulled out her wand, ready to duell whoever was doing this, when Dumbledore emerged from the flames, completely unharmed and totally baffled.  
Then, the dragon flew over his head, and dissolved into writing.

It said: "Mr. Twinkles. Supporting Anti-Dark legislation since the Twenties. I have a right to live, as well, you know."

There it was, the glowing letters, hanging in the air, by someone who, according to his or her own words, wasn't allowed to live.

Who had written this?

Why?

And why would the headmaster forbid anyone to live? He'd always been a great supporter of creature rights... what did this mean?

She'd do her research as soon as she could.

"Uh, Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"So, I mean, I might not be full of pumpkin juice today, but would you still come with me?"

Ginny looked at Harry incredulously.

"If you want me to. Besides, we've got the same way anyway."

"Okay."

* * *

She accompanied him up the stairs. He was unusually quiet.

"So... do you have any idea what this means?"

"There's only one type of person Dumbledore ever supported legislation against without bothering to research or make sure he didn't hurt anyone. Believe me, I did research."

"Who is it?"

"So-called creatures created in Dark Rituals. It's not only not punishable but a requirement to kill them."

He sounded unusually bitter.

"Like inferi?"

"They are a type of such creature. But not the only one out there. Inferi, they don't think, don't feel, and practically are just extensions of their creators mind. But there are those that grow up, live and feel like normal people. They might be a tad more powerful, and might have more of a talent for the Dark Arts, but they still have been children, or, in some cases, are children. They're people."

He sounded definitively bitter now. As if he knew one of them.

Ginny stopped short.

Morgan... "Creature"... it would explain an awful lot if that Morgan was one of these. It would explain why Harry hadn't just taken her with him and left the Death Eaters, and why he was even now keeping everything about his living circumstances secret.

Because someone might die if he wouldn't.

She didn't tell him her conclusions, of course. She had a feeling he wouldn't like her speculating.

* * *

Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were finishing their preparations.

They'd gathered as many Death Eaters as they could contact, had gotten as many useful implements as they could get on the run, and had spied out an unused secrect passage that lead into Hogwarts.

One person they had yet to contact was Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

Mike had found Morgan after dinner.

"Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"What was that? The others said it was fiendfyre, but that's incredibly hard to control."

"It was fiendfyre."

"You're a Dark Witch?"

"As Dark as they come. It's in my blood."

"Mr. Evans, was he a Dark Wizard, too?"

"Yeah. Pretty Dark. He taught it to me."

"Dark isn't the same as evil, is it? Not like my dorm mates are saying."

"Nope. It can be used for pretty much anything."

"You know what, that dragon was totally awesome."

"Thanks."

They sat there, in silence, beside each other.

"Do you think your Grandpa can teach me one day, too?"

"I don't know. Gramps always said that I'm a prodigy, so I've got no idea when you'll be able to learn. But I could try teaching you Darkfyre."

"What's that?"

"Same as fiendfyre, but a bit easier to control and you can put it out with heavily enchanted water."

"Okay."

"Well, first, let's start with just normal fire, okay? The incantation is 'Incendio', and you wave your wand like this..."

And so, Mike Roberts learned how to conjure fire a few years ahead of the normal curriculum.

* * *

Dumbledore was very worried. He could not, for the hell of it, ever remember a single piece of legislation where he'd pushed for the right of execution for a sentient being. Inferi didn't count as sentient, after all.

And yet, he'd somehow managed to get an enemy that was powerful enough to control fiendfyre - using it was easy, the not-getting-yourself-killed-in-the-process part was what made it special - and, as well as that, left with enough of a sense of humour to play a prank on him.

It confused the hell out of him.

* * *

Ginny started reading up on rituals.

It took her a few weeks to find the ritual Harry had described, and it sent a shiver down her back.

The resulting babies grew up just like normal people, true, but normally, their creator would change something, like enhance their intelligence or affinity to the Dark Arts.

What worried her was that they were extremely loyal to the person whose blood had been used in their creation. There had been cases of Dark Wizards creating such children as weapons.

Dangerous weapons, because like every kid, they were not able to comprehend that doing as your father or mother said all the time wasn't always the best idea, especially when told to torture somebody.

She was pretty sure that whoever had played the prank was such an individual, who had a bit more morals than most.

The worst part was their life stories. Blood, evil, torture, she couldn't find any example with a happy childhood.

The practise had been given up, because their growing up took so long, and because they weren't the only ones who felt loyalty. It was equally reprocicated, which many Dark Lords had found uncomfortable.

But one was here now.

She wondered whether Dumbledore actually knew about the existance of this ritual.

* * *

**AN: Okay, you know what's coming now. **

**squirmyorchid, I'm answering your question for everyone here, just in case someone asked him-/herself the same. No, Severus is not planning to become another Dark Lord. He's more worried about the Dark Lord coming back with a super-strong weapon they can't defend against, and everyone ending up dead, as no one has any idea whether the Dark Lord is still alive or not or whether he might come back with an ass up his sleeve. As the only one he can ask, he has to question Harry. **

**Now, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and, yet again, extra-thanks to TheBigCat for another OMAKE.**

* * *

**OMAKE by TheBigCat**

Voldemort furiously clicked the screen and tapped at the keyboard. The animated character onscreen slashed away with its wooden sword as the other avatar came nearer, her diamond sword flashing in the MineCraft sun.  
Morgan cackled victoriously from the other PC as she killed her granddad once more and picked up the spoils of war.  
Tom Ridle had had enough. With a vicious snarl he sent an Unforgivable at his laptop.  
"Um, Grandad? You can't Crucio a computer."


	22. Lucy and Dracy

**Lucy and Dracy**

Thomas was at his wits' end, sometimes.

Students could be so annoying. It made him glad he'd given his wand to Morgan, otherwise he might have lost his patience, and just started AK-ing people.

So, he put on a smiley mask and taught. And then, when a student suddenly didn't behave like a dunderhead anymore, or got a problem on his own, then he remembered why he'd picked up teaching.

It wasn't because it was such a fun job. It was the satisfaction of his students getting things, of them learning.

It was the glances of sheer adoration some shot him at times, it was the mind games against the pranksters and those unwilling to learn. It was the knowledge of shaping people's future in a good way.

It was so much better than being a Dark Lord. Direct torture was so unrefined. It was so much more fun to explain, be patient, and then set a test that was just a tad too hard for those who didn't bother to learn.

It were power games where one had to be benevolent and patient, yet at the same time make sure one wasn't seen as weak under anycircumstances.

It was a fine balance.

A balance that was much more fun than just destroying things all the time.

* * *

Morgan had decided that, strangely enough, most people wouldn't notice her, even if she was clearly too young to be attending Hogwarts.

So far, nobody had noticed her. Well, her pranks had been noticed with a ka-boom, but she, herself hadn't been.

Unfortunately, her luck was about to end.

She ran around a corner at full speed, into a grown-up.

A grown-up who wasn't her Dad, unluckily.

It was Ginny Weasley.

Another person was with her.

He looked an awful lot like...

"Uncle Lucy?"

"P-pardon?"

"You look an awful lot like Uncle Lucy."

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I have no idea who this 'Uncle Lucy' is", the man drawled.

He even sounded like Uncle Lucy.

She remembered Uncle Lucy had had a son, named...

"So you're Uncle Lucy's son. That means your Cousin Dracy."

"DRACY?" He shrieked.

"Yes, Cousin Dracy. That's your name."

* * *

Ginny had to bite back the urge to laugh. That girl... she had a healthy sense of humour.

Then, her brain started working, and she noted the girl's features, and that she was much too young for Hogwarts. And how did she know Lucius Malfoy anyway?

She looked like... she looked like Tom Riddle, a little, at least.

And she knew Malfoy.

"How do you know Dracy's Dad?", she asked.

"Not you too, Ginny."

"He was one of Grampa's friends."

Grandpa... her Grandpa...

"Was your Grandpa born Tom Riddle, by any chance?"

The girl smiled at her radiantly.

"Yeah, how do you know that?"

"Ginny? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, I sort of knew your Grandpa. Met him once."

"He can't have been too nice then. He said he lost his sanity and only found it recently."

That's what had triggered Voldemort's disappearance. He'd decided that being a Dark Lord was bloody insane.

She had to agree that there was a point there.

"No, he wasn't very nice. But, say, how come you're here?"

Not very nice. Yeah, possess her and making her unleash the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets was definitely not very nice, and that wasn't an understatement at all.

"I'm here with my Dad."

She looked into the girl's eyes.

"Hello? Can you hear me?", "Dracy" asked.

Harry's eyes.

"What's your name?"

"Morgan."

With that, the girl ran for it.

And suddenly, the story made sense.

Dark Ritual... Harry joining the Dark Lord... everything made sense. He'd protected his child.

Morgan Potter.

And instead of jealousy rising, she found herself liking the girl.

"Did you understand anything she said?", Draco asked.

"Yes. I did."

* * *

Rabastan was talking to Lucius Malfoy.

"We've got to find our Lord, that Potter surely knows something!"

Lucius Malfoy leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

"I can't help you."

"Why?"

"Because you have nothing more than vague guesses. You don't know whether H... Potter knows anything."

It was a lie, of course. But he knew that if he tried to attack Potter, he'd get hell from both Morgan and the Dark Lord, and that wasn't a situation he would enjoy.

"What? Who else can know anything?"

"And besides, even if he does know something, you don't know whether he is not just complying with our Lord's wishes. I am not fool enough to dare risk disturbing the Dark Lord's plans... No, I can't help you."

It was true. He was pretty sure Harry had done what the Dark Lord wanted of him.

"You're just afraid for your precious son."

"That too, Rabastan, that too. But I still don't fancy getting in our Lord's way, which is the most likely outcome in this, so... goodbye!"

He managed to throw Rabastan out.

"You know something, don't you, Lucius?"

Cissy.

"Yes, I do. And it would be very good for them if I'm not right."

"It was something Bella knew too."

"Yes... look, Potter was in the know as well. It was how he was forced to join us."

"You can't tell me, can you?"

He couldn't. Not because he didn't trust his wife, but because if that girl ever found out he'd breathed a word of her existence, she might just eradicate both of them. She might forgive him, but he didn't know for sure, and he wasn't about to risk Cissy's life.

"It's not my secret to tell, and if the Dark Lord, Potter or... well, someone else ever found out I've told, I'm not sure we'd survive. They might forgive, but as long as I don't know, I won't risk our lives."

"That serious?"

"Most Death Eaters who got an inkling of this information were killed immediately afterwards, and I'm pretty much the only one apart from Potter who can leak it, so if it gets out, I might be a dead man."

"I see... I'm curious, who died?"

"Flint. Avery, one of the Selwyns, and a few others. Nott was lucky, he just lost his memory. Most of them were doomed anyway, but then, they were used so that curses could be practised upon them and the secret could still be safe."

"If there are any hints that you can tell, will you?"

"I promise you I will."


	23. Redheads Pranking

**Redheads Pranking**

Ginny wanted to find Morgan.

It was much easier said than done.

Finally, she ran into the little girl by chance, plotting with Mike Roberts, one of her best students.

"Mr. Roberts and Ms. Potter, would you please come here?"

They came, Morgan's face full of fear.

"What did the two of you want to do? I just heard something about Filch..."

"Uh... nothing."

"Can I help with 'nothing'?" She made air quotes.

Morgan looked up at her, disbelieving, and then started grinning like mad.

"Of course you can!"

* * *

While helping in the preparations of a skin-dye potion, Mike said something that made Ginny listen.

"You know, it's sort of funny, you're a lot like Morgan's Grandpa."

She was a lot like Lord Voldemort. What the hell?

She tried to sound curious and not betray any emotion. "Why?"

"Well, he helped me with pranks, too, and he was my Primary School teacher. Thomas Evans."

Thomas Evans... Tom Riddle.

A school teacher.

She burst out laughing.

"What was so funny?"

"It's just... a little unexpected he chose that path. I met him once before he went and started teaching, and, well, I never expected him to start teaching, of all things. Though I guess he's changed a lot. How was he as a teacher?"

"Patient, understanding. Great sense of humour. And, well, whenever he explained something, you'd just get it. But he wouldn't tolerate laziness in his classes."

"Sounds like a great teacher."

"He was. Still is my favourite teacher ever, no offence, Professor Weasley. How was he when you met him?"

She tried to reconcile her memories of Tom Riddle with his description, as well as Morgan's obvious love for her Grandpa. It didn't quite work. Suddenly, she remembered reading up on Muggle mental illnesses.

"Mentally ill, I think. He wasn't much of a person anymore. It sounds like he overcome his illness."

Morgan smiled at her, gratefully.

She felt a little better, then. Not just because of Morgan's smile. It was the admittance that some outside influence was to blame, that Tom really hadn't been that evil, and that the charming boy just couldn't have acted differently.

It helped.

"You know, I'd maybe like to meet him again. Do you think your Dad would help me, Morgan?"

"Uh... I still have to tell him you know I'm here."

"Well, I guess we can rectify that sometime soon. After the prank."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was giving a progress report for Harry Potter to the rest to the Wizengamot.

All in all, he could say it looked rather good. Harry was fitting in well, no complaints, no tries to get away, nothing.

After he'd given his report, another one was brought in, about a rather skilled Auror in the US, who'd just joined recently. Isabella White. Her background was a little shady, but the Americans had decided to overlook that because boy, that girl had skill.

After hearing the interesting tale of what happened to a pair of thugs who'd thought they could torture somebody into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse, his respect for that witch went up several notches.

He idly wondered whether she might sometime be available to go after some Death Eaters that still hadn't been found. For instance Bellatrix Black, she had committed exactly the same offence as those thugs...

* * *

Harry had just received his last letter from Tom.

His suggestion had a point, but still, he didn't feel to good about it.

It was to go back to their old safe house and see whether any messages or anything had been left.

He supposed he would have to ask Professor Dumbledore for a day off tomorrow and then take Morgan with him so she wouldn't feel left behind.

Morgan hated being left behind. He could understand it, he'd never liked that either.

He just hoped they'd find something useful and wouldn't waste their time.

* * *

The next day started with a bang, or actually, a rather green looking Filch.

Ginny and Mike shared a knowing, proud smile at their achievement, while stealing glances to the corner where they knew Morgan was hiding.

Ginny felt elated. Plotting with the two of them was so much fun... she felt she could understand Fred and George perfectly now.

* * *

While Filch left the Great Hall in a hurry, Harry tried to talk to Professor Dumbledore.

"Uh, Professor?"

"Yes, m'boy?"

"I now this is rather sudden, but as tomorrow is Saturday, do you think I could take the afternoon off for some personal matters?"

"Personal matters?"

"Helping a friend of mine."

"Ah, I see."

No, he didn't get what Dumbledore saw, but if it got him what he wanted, he was content to let him see pink elephants for all he cared.

"Yes, I think it wouldn't be a problem."

"Thank you, Professor."

* * *

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed (I'm repeating myself often, aren't I), and again, extra-thanks to TheBigCat for yet another OMAKE.**

**OMAKE by TheBigCat**

The door of Harry's house banged open.  
"Miss Morgan, come out!" Shouted a man with a gun.  
Morgan poked her head around the door.  
"Yes?" she asked with a cute smile. The man faltered.  
"I'm a member of the Sue Slayers, and you're a Mary Sue! You must die!"  
Moran cocked her head. "If you want a real Mary Sue, why don't you try Fleur Delacour? It's not my fault I'm so cute."  
The man shrugged and meanered of to Beauxbatons.


	24. Vows, Letters and Plans

**Vows, Letters and Plans**

That evening, Ginny Weasley cornered him in his office.

"Uh... Ginny... what is it?"

"I know."

What?

"What do you know?"

"Morgan, c'mere, please."

"Yes, Professor Weasley."

"Morge! What did I tell you about not showing up in front of stra... uh... How?"

"Not my fault. She literally ran into me, and let's just say, I'm pretty sure I've figured everything out."

Bloody hell. Harry fingered for his wand.

"And I'm also pretty sure that you don't want to reach for your wand, Harry James Potter. I haven't yet run to Dumbledore or the Ministry, and I won't. I happen to have taken a liking to Morgan."

Harry wanted to relax.

"Swear it to me."

To his surprise, Ginny immediately went to her knees.

"I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, swear upon my magic that I will not betray the existence of Morgan..."

"Elisabeth."

"... Morgan Elisabeth Potter to anyone without Harry James Potter's permission. So mote it be. Happy, Harry?"

"Uh... yes!"

She was kneeling right in front of him, and he was looking down at her.

Some part of his brain wished that her neckline was a bit lower, still.

He tried to squash the desire.

"So, as Morgan already trusts me, will you tell me whether my suspicions are correct?"

"Sure."

Ginny told him everything she suspected.

It was one hundred percent accurate.

"How's Tom, by the way?"

"I guess he's a pretty decent guy. You wouldn't believe what kind of times we had..."

And so, stories of Christmas shopping, of Lucy the princess, and of the Voldangaroo where told.

At the end of it, Ginny had tears in her eyes, and her ribs where cracking.

It felt good, telling those stories to her.

* * *

Morgan was watching the grown ups. Yes, she could see her father blushing sometimes, and Ginny too.

She liked Ginny.

"Professor Weasley?"

"Yes, Morgan?"

"Would you go an a date with my Dad?"

Both of them looked like deer caught in the headlights, blushing furiously.

"I... uh... maybe... if he agrees, I mean..."

Grown ups. They were so complicated.

"Okay, can you give Cousin Dracy a letter then? It's for Uncle Lucy."

Ginny smiled relieved, and took the letter.

* * *

Draco was very, very annoyed when Ginny gave him a letter with the address "Cousin Dracy - give to Uncle Lucy".

He very much hoped that he'd never have anything to do with that girl again, just so nobody would ever call him Dracy again.

He also wondered at what point in time any small girl could have met his father, or how on Earth his father had been labelled "Lucy".

He wasn't sure he wanted to know, and he wasn't sure his Mum wanted to know, either. Or that his parents' marriage was particularly likely to survive the relevation.

He sighed. He'd just have to send on the letter and hope for the best.

* * *

Rodolphus and Rabastan were rather worried about Lucius not wanting to participate in this attack.

It was like he knew something else, something that could give them troubles, but whatever they tried, he wouldn't give them the information.

Well, they'd have to attack without Lucius, for good or bad. They'd torture the information about the Dark Lord's whereabouts out of Potter, and then, they'd find their Lord, and he'd reward them, and then, they'd follow him, and they would defeat Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Order, and kill all the Mudbloods.

A simple plan that was sure to work, right?

There was just one recruit who had a vague feeling that this plan was not going to go well, and that something was gonna go wrong.

It was like Theo Nott had forgot something very, very important that could prove rather detrimental to their whole plan, but he wasn't sure what. He just couldn't remember, but he was so sure it was important.

He just hoped it would go like the Lestrange brothers thought it would go, and that that damn Potter hadn't something up his sleave.

He was pretty sure he had, though, although he just couldn't remember what it had been.


	25. News

**News**

Ginny was on a mission while Harry and Morgan were gone.

It was: Find Albus Dumbledore, corner him, hit him over the head with a book and show him the damn facts about Made humans.

Well, not the third.

Maybe.

It depended on his stubbornness. So, if she was lucky and he behaved like normal, she would get to hit him. The notion cheered her up immensely. She was in the mood to hit someone over the head with a book.

Harry had said nothing at all about Morgan's date offer. Not one word.

She really hoped Dumbledore would be stubborn.

* * *

Tom, Morgan and Harry were standing in the near-ruin of their old home.

They crept through the throne room, to their rooms.

In Harry and Morgan's living room, there was a letter on the floor.

"My Lord, dear Harry and Morgan,

After your disappearance, I thought it prudent to remove myself from the Death Eaters as well. I used a ritual to permanently change my appearance and go undercover as a Mudblood in the USA. I've moved to the Magical District of New York City. If you want to contact me, my new name is Isabella White. I have applied for a position in the American Magical Department. I hope I'll get a job there.

Yours, Bella

PS: Morgan, I think I'm gonna buy you some Christmas presents. Should you find me, I'll give them to you.

PPS: Harry, take care of my Lord and Morgan. They'll need it."

Bella had left them a letter.

"Why do you need to take care of us?"

"Because I'm the only one with any common sense in this family? No, joking, I haven't got a clue. She should have begged Morgan to take care of the two of us."

Tom smiled at him.

"Yeah, without our little one, we'd be totally lost."

"Hey, I'm not little!"

They laughed.

Then, Harry and Morgan returned to Hogwarts, while Tom went to their family home.

* * *

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore was having one bad day.

Ginny Weasley had found him alone in his office, signing papers, and had proceeded to hit him over the head with a book.

"Ow! What was that for?"

She shrugged.

"I'm in a bad mood, and you might have been stubborn. Here, there's something that would interest you, Headmaster."

She popped the book she'd just to hit him open.

"A Dark Arts book?"

"Read this, or I'll hit you again."

He read.

And he didn't like what he read.

There were rituals to create humans?

"What... does this work?"

"I've met a girl. Seven years old. Clever as hell, and a mean sense of humour. She's as much a person as anyone else, and she's got as much of a right to live as anyone else."

"Was she responsible for the Mr. Twinkles' incidences?"

Ginny seemed to think.

"I can't say for sure, but I think so. She's got quite a lot of talent for the Dark Arts."

"How?"

"It's in her blood, as far as I know."

That wasn't very much information at all. For all he knew, she could be the Dark Lord's daughter or something like that.

"So, what will you do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"There are laws that people like her should be killed on sight. I'm pretty sure there should be an amendment or two to that damn law."

He blinked. He hadn't considered that. Well, he hadn't had time to properly think over this yet, anyway. But now that he was reminded of the law, he was filled with horror. This ritual was aimed to design people. Normal people, children that could be killed without repercussion just because he and the other Wizengamot members had been uninformed when drafting the law!

"I'll have it changed as soon as I can."

"Good."

"Uh... you don't think I could meet the girl, don't you?"

Ginny seemed to take a while to think.

"I think something could be arranged. I'd have to talk to her first, of course."

She hit him over the head again.

"What?"

"Sorry, I really, really needed that."

* * *

Lucius hadn't expected to receive any letters from his son.

He certainly hadn't expected that he would get a missile from Morgan through his son.

It was in a normal, white Muggle paper envelope, with the words "For Uncle Lucy" on them.

To his bad luck, Narcissa had gotten it before him.

"There's only one person who'd address me like that...", he mumbled.

She stared at him, angrily.

"May I?"

He took the letter, read it, and nearly collapsed in relief.

Morgan was safe.

And he should tell his family about her. There was a "permission note" from his Lord included.

Oh, and by the way, he should come to Hogwarts sometime to catch up with her and Dad.

"Who wrote you that letter?"

"Girl", he answered brusquely, and immediately realized his mistake, before Narcissa could scream, shout and rave at him.

"Seven years old", he added as fast as he could.

"LUCIUS NICHOLAS MALFOY, WHA... wait a second. How old, did you say?"

"Seven years. I used to help babysit her, on her Grandfather's orders."

"Why could her grandfather order you to do anything?"

He held out the signed note from the Dark Lord.

"Our Lord had a granddaughter?"

"Yes. I think there was some sort of ritual involved so she'd have a quarter of his blood and half of Potter's. Don't ask me what happened to the remaining quarter, I don't know."

"And why does she call you 'Lucy'?"

"That's how Po..., Harry introduced me to her. Her Uncle Lucy. She also took quite a liking to her Auntie Bella. You know some of the Death Eaters who got killed? She helped torture them. Wasn't even out of her nappies by then. Could already cast a mean Cruciatus. It would have been pretty idiotic to object to a nickname she was fond of. Especially because our Lord never did a single thing to correct her."

"And so, you got stuck as Uncle Lucy?"

"Yes."

"What about the Dark Lord's disappearance?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say they wanted to protect her, and found living in different conditions much better. Can't really fault them for it. Though she would have made one hell of a Dark Lady."

"The Dark Lord's granddaughter... what an honour..."

It had been. That was one other reason why he hadn't objected to his duties.

"It wasn't all fun."

"What else did she write?"

"Uh... we should come by sometime. I think she's at Hogwarts right now, together with her Dad."

"Really? So, when are we going?"

"I don't know. I just hope I won't be roped into playing with dolls again... or worse... playing dress-up with Harry and Bella and our Lord."

"Really, she made you do that?"

"Yes. What's so funny?"

"Nothing. And what did you have to play during dress-up?"

"Do I really have to say?"

"Yes. Come on, hubbie."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Loud and clear, Lucius. Loud and clear!"

"A princess, okay? I had to play the bloody princess!"

"You? Princess? What role did Bella play?"

"The brave knight out to rescue the princess. And it isn't funny! That was traumatizing!"

"Potter?"

"Dragon."

"And the Dark Lord? Did he play the grandmother or something?"

"Yes. How did you guess that one?"

It took a lot of time until Cissy had calmed down enough from laughing to do anything else. He was pretty sure she'd cracked a rib or two.

Served her right, he thought darkly. He never, ever wanted to play a princess again. Never ever.

* * *

**AN: Yeah, I'm thanking you again. It's a bit repetitive. No OMAKE this time. By the way, bloodredfirefly, Omake is japanese, for "extra", about the same meaning as "Easter egg". AnimagiPotter, there will be some Ron, Hermione and Morgan interaction in the next chapter.  
**


	26. Meeting

**Meeting**

A few days later, after informing his deputy of the situation, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall met Morgan Potter for the first time.

It was a relatively strange meeting.

On one side of the office, there were one very, very, very old man and a woman who was roughly fifty years younger than him - though still old, nonetheless.

On the other side, there was a small, red-headed girl with green eyes, clutching the hands of two grown-ups beside her, who could have been her parents: A red-headed woman, although with darker hair than the girl's, and a man with raven black hair and the same green eyes as the young one.

All in all, it was a scene the Headmaster's office had never seen before.

* * *

Personally, Harry found the whole situation a bit surreal.

Morgan's first words were: "Mr. Twinkles!"

"Pardon?", asked Dumbledore.

"You look like Mr. Twinkles", she informed him matter-of-factly.

"Who is Mr. Twinkles, my child?"

Harry thought his face was starting to burn. He just hoped she hadn't brought her doll with him.

He wasn't so lucky. She pulled the doll out of her pocket and showed him to Dumbledore. "That's Mr. Twinkles. Beware the fire of dragons, Mr. Twinkles!"

He hoped he wouldn't have to explain that Mr. Twinkles normally ended up as dragon roast beef. It would have been a bit embarassing with a live-size and very much not a doll Mr. Twinkles lookalike in the room.

"Ah? I will certainly take care. Lemon drop, anyone?"

"Lemon drop? Can I have one, please?"

Dumbledore chuckled and gave it to the girl. She happily sucked on the lemon drop, probably deciding that she really, really liked giant Mr. Twinkles.

Harry hoped she wouldn't say that out loud.

"So... you are?"

"Morgan. Morgan Elishabeth Potter."

Dumbledore blinked.

"My daughter, Headmaster."

"Really? And who is..."

"Her grandparents on what would have been her mother's side are Tom Marvolo Riddle and Morgan le Fay."

"Ah?"

"He's a rather doting grandfather."

Dumbledore blinked again. Harry had to give that to him, he was rather good at hiding his shock. It was just that he had the exact same reaction as Tom to it that betrayed him.

"Who're you?", Morgan asked Professor McGonagall.

"I am Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Professor for Transfiguration."

To Harry's surprise, Morgan giggled.

"Grandpa talks about you."

"He does?"

"Yes, and he blushes a lot."

Apparently, the professor was speechless.

"Do you want to go on a date with him?"

"Morgan?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Please refrain from asking people on dates for either me or your grandfather. You might have tried it only twice, but twice is enough."

"Why not?"

"Because that's something we should do ourselves?"

"But you like Ginny, and Grandpa likes the Professor here."

Harry was pretty sure his face was burning now. For all her intelligence, Morgan had not a single clue about relationships.

"That may be so, but could you please still let us ask ourselves?"

"Okay... spoilsport", she mumbled under her breath.

Silence.

"So. What were we talking about?", Harry asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

The other three adults started laughing.

* * *

It took a while until everyone had calmed down.

What surprised the Headmaster the most was little Morgan's insistance that Lucius Malfoy should be allowed to come to the school grounds for a visit, so she could catch up with her "Uncle Lucy". There weren't any such problems with Ron and Hermione Weasley coming, so Harry could introduce them.

"No."

"Pretty please."

"I will not allow this man on the school grounds."

"Pretty pretty please?"

"No."

"Pretty pretty pretty please?"

"No."

"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please?"

"No." He started sounding tired.

"Pretty pretty please please please?"

"I'd give in if I were you."

"Okay. He can come, if it absolutely has to be."

"THANKS, Mr. Twinkles!"

And he received a knee-cap crushing hug.

* * *

When Ron and Hermione arrived at Hogwarts, they were immediately led to Harry's quarters. Ron didn't know why, didn't know what on Earth could be any reason for an invitation. Harry had been so secretive since he'd come back.

When he arrived in his quarters only to nearly fall down because something had coiled itself around his knees, he nearly died of a heart attack.

He looked down, and there was a little girl, hugging him. She could have reached higher, but she absolutely had to go down and hug him round the knees so he would lose his balance.

He looked at her. Red hair. Green eyes.

Harry was standing there, looking at him in his predicament, and at the girl with an odd look on his face, a mixture of amusement, pride, and relief.

Ginny was standing beside him - and WHAT was she doing in HARRY's quarters? - with the same facial expression.

"Hey Ron, hey Hermione."

"Who... who is that?", Hermione asked, baffled. His wife was never baffled.

"May I introduce? Morgan, these are my best friends, Hermione Gr... I mean, Hermione and Ron Weasley."

"Are they related to Ginny, Dad?" Ron looked at her face, and sighed in relief in his mind. Red hair, Harry's eyes, but at least she didn't call Ginny Mum.

"Yes, Ron is Ginny's brother. Ron, Hermione, that's my daughter. I'll give you the full story later."

"So, that's Uncle Ron then. Because he's Ginny's brother."

Harry's face was burning.

"Mate, what is it with you and my sister?", Ron asked. He wouldn't mind them dating. Too much. Harry was better than most blokes, he could trust Harry. Still, it was fun to sound suspicious. Needle them a little. And he'd like to be informed if they were dating.

"Nothing" Harry's face was burning, same as Ginny's.

"Looks like nothing", Hermione said, grinning.

"Morgan asked her on a date with me, happy?" The girl rose in Ron's esteem immediately. Playing matchmaker between those two was a sacred duty.

"And you still haven't done anything", Ginny added. Harry, you idiot!

"Uh... okay... I mean, I'd like to go... sometime... can we discuss this some other time?", Harry pleaded with her. Ron was starting to pity his friend, when a thought invaded his mind.

His wife voiced it for him.

"Harry, what is it with Morgan's mother?"

"That's a long story, involving my blood and a ritual... Well, you remember the Tournament?"

* * *

A few hours later, Lucius Malfoy and his wife arrived at Hogwarts for the same express purpose of meeting Morgan.

It was fun to observe, in Harry's opinion.

"Uncle Lucy!"

"Hello, Morgan."

"You know, I met your son. He's nice."

"Our son?", Narcissa asked.

"Yeah. Cousin Dracy. Who're you, Miss?"

"I'm Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy."

Morgan looked at her for a long second.

"You're Auntie Bella's sister, aren't you?"

Narcissa blinked.

"Yes, yes I am."

"Then you're Auntie Cissy."

Narcissa flashed her husband a triumphant smile.

"Why does she get such a normal nickname?"

"Because I say so, Uncle Lucy. Come on, let's go play dress-up!"

And so, Morgan dragged Lucius into Harry's office, followed by an amused Narcissa.

Inside, there were already "Cousin Dracy", "Uncle Ron", "Auntie 'Mione", "Ginny" and "Nev", whom she'd also roped into playing with her.

"Alright, everyone changes into their costumes! I'm gonna decide who plays what, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy so hoped he wouldn't have to play the princess again.

* * *

Narcissa didn't know whether any of her ribs was still whole. She'd spend the last half hour watching and laughing.

Now, the end of the dress-up play came near.

* * *

"Dad, roar!"

Harry the dragon roared fiercely. He wondered how long he could hold back his laughter.

"Now, roast the knight and his companions, the brave squire and the sorceress!"

For better effects, Morgan made sure to encase Nev the Knight, Uncle Ron the Squire and Auntie 'Mione the Sorceress in fiendfyre.

It was sort of ironic, that Neville played the same role as Bellatrix had.

Now came the part where he wouldn't know whether he could hold back his laughter.

"Oh, my knight, what has happened to you... Do I really have to do this?"

"Yes, Cousin Dracy."

"Why am I the princess?"

"Because you've got pretty hair, and Uncle Lucy is older than you. Now, continue in role."

"Oh, my mother, oh my queen what can we do? Our knight has just gotten roasted!"

"Oh, do not fear, my daughter, princess, we shall survive!", said Lucius Malfoy in a falsetto voice. Although he continued in role, he looked rather disgruntled for somebody who didn't have to play the princess after all.

"Dad, make roast beef out of them!"

And Harry roared again, and with Morgan's fiendfyre, "Lucy and Dracy" got roasted.

"Now, the Dragon Mistress rides the Dragon!"

Narcissa Malfoy broke out laughing, and Ron was coughing, heavily.

"Have I said something funny? C'mon, Dad, give your Ginny a piggy-back ride!"

And so, the Dragon and his Mistress flew off into the sunset.

The end.

It had been typical for one of Morgan's dress-ups.

A formerly hidden Albus Dumbledore started clapping.

"Did you observe us?"

"Yes. Disilliusionment Charm. It was a rather... splendid performance, I have to say. Professor Malfoy, you make an excellent princess. Perhaps you could use a similar performance in class once..."

Harry wasn't sure whether Dumbledore was joking or not.

Still, he would pay to see that. He would pay a lot to see that. He would do even more to be able to sell tickets. He was sure Ron would buy.

* * *

**AN: Small mistake with uploading this chapter... well, you'll get the next one soon.**


	27. The Attack

**The Attack**

A week had passed, and Albus Dumbledore was rather proud of himself.

He had shown the other Wizengamot members the ritual, and had managed to had an amendment made for the law, so those created by ritual who were in possession of any measure of independent intelligence and not inherently malevolent had basic rights like survival.

It was extremely good news for young Morgan.

The girl would one day be an excellent asset for whichever profession she chose, no matter what it was.

Except maybe playing matchmaker. She was a bit too obvious about it.

* * *

Rabastan and Rodolphus had finally finished everything.

Today would be the day.

The great one.

The best.

They would chase down the traitor, they'd get the information, and everything would be perfectly normal again.

They'd go hunting Muggles, and torture Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, and they'd finally take orders again and wouldn't have to plan anything themselves, because so much thinking made their brains hurt.

* * *

Morgan couldn't believe the news. She finally could go outside without being in danger of being killed by anyone she ran across.

While her father was hanging around the third floor, close to that statue of the witch that could lead one to Honeydukes, Morgan entered the Great Hall.

It felt good, standing there freely, without being stuck under an Invisibility Claok. Being able to stand proud, tall and free, knowing she had a right to exist and to live.

It felt fantastic.

"GOOD MORNING!", she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Every single head turned to her. She waved to Mike, to Ginny, Nev, and Dracy, to the Headmaster and to the Transfiguration Professor.

Then she drew her wand and conjured some fiendfyre, for dramatic effect.

She let the flames swirl around herself, controlling them completely with her mind.

She'd never felt so alive.

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, was having a spot of tough luck.

He'd been leaning against the statue when suddenly, a bunch of Death Eaters burst out of it.

He recognized most of them, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Nott...

Bloody damn hell.

Rabastan had him under a torture curse before he could do anything, then Rodolphus tied his hands behind his back.

"What do you know about the disappearance of the Dark Lord?"

"Cannot tell you."

"Crucio!"

Harry had an idea.

It was probably stupid, but the best he could come up with.

"I can show you, though."

"How?"

"Follow me."

And he lead them to the Great Hall, hoping that _somebody_ there would be able to get rid of them.

* * *

When Theo Nott entered the Great Hall, he immediately spotted a small, red-headed girl, with green eyes like Potters, and when she turned to look at them, he recognized the expression of fury as belonging to the Dark Lord.

And then, he remembered.

He remembered her.

Bloody damn hell.

He started praying in his mind.

* * *

It all went very, very slowly, Harry felt.

Rabastan shouted: "So, when will you give us the information! I'll kill you if you don't!"

Then, Morgan turned around, a look of pure fury on her face, an expression that was one hundred percent Tom.

"Who are you?"

"Rabastan Lestrange. I will bring back the Dark Lord, little girl, and people like you will be very sorry."

If anything, Morgan got angrier.

"You will let my family be."

It was with these words that she raised her wand.

"Where did you get that wand from?", were Rabastan Lestrange's last words.

Before Harry could blink, he was engulfed in flames.

The fiendfyre was twirling and swirling around him, its sentient destruction barely tamed by Morgan's mind. He could see the chimeras and dragons, the serpents and gryphins, the badgers and eagles forming in the flames, falling apart at a moment's notice. He could feel his daughter's euphoria, her desire to destroy, the enjoyment this was for her, in every spark, and yet, he could feel how she was letting it both run free and controlling it so utterly that even though it touched him at times, it consumed neither him, his clothing, nor the floor, not even a speck of dust she wanted to leave there.

It was magnificent.

When the flames ended, it seemed like he had spent a lifetime between them, yet it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. He drew a few deep breaths.

There was not even ash left from the Death Eaters.

Morgan's next words echoed the thoughts of many students: "Well, that was sort of anticlimatic."

* * *

That was when the Magical Law Enforcement finally deigned to show up.

They had been informed there were intruders, and had immediately dispatched some Aurors under the leadership of Amelia Bones.

When she came, there was Harry Potter standing in the Great Hall, grinning like an idiot, while a little girl with a wand in hand was facing him.

When they had been told the whole story, Amelia Bones asked: "Do you think we could borrow Morgan here? I thought it might be a good idea to take her with us and tell criminals that they can chose to surrender or face her. I'm pretty sure we'd make a lot more of easy arrests."

"That wouldn't be quite fair, wouldn't it? Morgan needs some spare time, too, you know."

"True. Well, we can still bring in some Aurors for hunting down the last few free Death Eaters. I've heard there's someone really good overseas, an Isabella White. Do you think we could get her to hunt down Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Harry did a spit take, right while looking at Ginny.

"Well, I guess it was time for a little pay-back on your part anyway. Though I don't get what was so funny."

"Uh... sorry..."

"Nevermind."

Ginny smiled at him. He smiled back.

* * *

Meanwhile, Morgan was sitting on Amelia Bones' lap and got her to tell one story after the other of how famous criminals had been captured.

After all, she'd have to make sure nobody would get to her Grampa.

* * *

**AN: Wow... only the Epilogue left. **


	28. The Classical All-Was-Well Epilogue

**The Classical All-Was-Well Epilogue**

A year later...

* * *

Ginny Weasley was quite happy with dating Harry Potter. His daughter was simply adorable, her Grandfather was one charming old man, and she had the feeling she would want to be part of this family forever.

She just hoped Harry would propose sooner or later.

It didn't happen quite as she hoped.

One day, when she and Harry were on a date, and Harry was especially nervous, and Morgan was even more excited than usual, she got her proposal.

"Ginny Weasley, do you want to be my Mum?"

"MORGAN!"

"Sorry, Dad."

Ginny blinked and turned her head to look at both father and daughter.

Harry blushed.

"Uh... I bought a ring and everything... and... here it is... and I wanted to ask you myself, but Morgan sort of was a little faster, I hope you don't mind, and I know that I'm babbling, and I know that's a horrible habit, but would you become my wife and Morgan's mother?"

She smiled.

"Yes."

It wasn't the most romantic proposal in the history of mankind. It wasn't in the most beautiful location, or even the most original one.

However, it fit right perfectly into this family. Her family, now.

Harry was standing there, dumbfounded.

She clapped right in front of his face.

"I said yes."

Slowly, a grin spread over Harry's face.

"You said yes! DID EVERYONE HEAR? SHE SAID YES! YES!"

She laughed. She had a feeling she wouldn't ever become bored as a part of the Potter family.

* * *

Thomas Evans was sitting face-to-face with Minerva McGonagall, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

"Is there any reason you had to ask me for this date at half past two in the morning?"

"So Morgan wouldn't come with me and try to ask you out for me. You did hear about Harry's proposal, didn't you?"

Minerva smiled.

"Yes. I did. She asked her to be her mother, didn't she?"

"She did. And I didn't exactly want her to ask you anything like 'Do you wanna be my Gran?' I'm not sure whether you'd have appreciated it."

"Don't worry, she asked me on a date with you once before."

"She did? When?"

Tom could feel himself blushing

"Right when I first met her. She's a handful, isn't she?"

"Yes, yes she is."

And so, the beginning of Thomas Evans' first date in all his life, under any name, was spent discussing his granddaughter.

* * *

While visiting a dragonreserve, Albus Dumbledore suddenly remembered those words a child had spoken to him, long ago.

"Beware the fire of dragons, Mr. Twinkles!"

Right then, a flame shot out of a dragon's nostril, and Albus Dumbledore barely escaped with his life, only thanks to the forewarning the girl had given him.

His beard got a little scorched, though.

Nevermind. Better a scorched beard than a roasted corpse.

He reminded himself to ask Morgan whether she might have any seer blood in the family. How had she known that a dragon would try to flame him?

* * *

All was well.

* * *

**AN: Wow, finished. Never thought that would happen. I know I could write more, but honestly? It would probably stop being funny when Morgan grew older. Right now, she's in the cutie state, so it's not that bad for her to be absolutely overpowered. Absolutely overpowered three- to eight-year-olds are somewhat funny. Teenagers aren't, and grown-ups even less. I've also run out of ideas. If someone wants to write a sequel or one-shots or whatever, you're welcome to, but please, PM me, because I would like to know and read it, however unlikely it is that anyone will take me up on this offer.**

**So, thank you, everyone, for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing.**


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